


My Doll

by BabyBat (BabyBatsCreations)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Ass to Mouth, Bondage, Branding, Cages, Choking, Cock Cages, Crossdressing, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dark!Tony, Dehumanization, Drowning, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Break, Mindbreak, Minor Character Death, Murder, Overstimulation, Painful Sex, Physical Abuse, Prostate Orgasm, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, Water Torture, collaring, fear kink, sensory depravation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 56,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBatsCreations/pseuds/BabyBat
Summary: Peter Parker was just your average Stark Industries intern. He worked hard, he was barely noticed, and he had a giant crush on Tony Stark. He couldn't believe his luck when the man himself actually bothered to talk to him during a company party. Now, as he lies captive in Tony's basement, he realizes he's made an error in judgement.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 220
Kudos: 969





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Please please PLEASE read the tags. The most important ones will be mind break and dehumanization, but seriously give them a look.
> 
> Updates are on Fridays.

Peter blinked his eyes open, dim light stinging as he struggled to adjust. He pushed himself up to sitting and felt a thin cushion under his hands. His head bumps against something hard and he groaned in annoyance. The smell of basement filled his nose sending his mind reeling. This wasn't where he'd fallen asleep.

He remembered Tony Stark wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he stood shaking in his excitement to meet the man. He had been excited enough to be invited despite only being an intern, but then THE Tony Stark had appeared and not only spoke to him, but made physical contact. He must have passed out like the embarrassing nerd he was and somehow ended up... In the basement?

But why... Why was he in a cage?

Peter hands wrapped around the thin metal bars. It wasn't just a cage, it was a kennel meant for a large dog. He grabbed the door, but as his eyes fell on the latch he sobbed. Someone had padlocked the latch to the bars. He tried to slide it over just enough to get it open, but it was no use.

"Hello?" Peter called out. "Is someone there? Please! Please I'm trapped down here!" He sobbed, fear creeping in.

Odds were, if anyone was around it would only be whoever stuck him in a cage in the first place. Maybe it was just some kind of prank. Someone was hazing the little intern who was lucky enough to be invited to one of Mr. Stark's parties.

Peter's stomach dropped. What had happened with Mr. Stark? Had he made a fool of himself in front of his hero?

He heard the soft creaking of old hinges as a door opened. Footsteps tapped down wooden stairs. A shadow grew as a figure blocked the light from the stairway. Tony Stark entered the room.

"How you doing, kid?" He asked. A friendly smile lit up his handsome face.

"Please, Mr. Stark. Can you get me out of here?"

He shrugged. "I could, but I don't want to. Not yet. I want you to understand what's happening here first." He approached the cage and sunk into a crouch.

Peter shook his head. No, he didn't understand and he was terrified. Nothing good was happening here.

"Last night, I took you from the party. Got you into one of my cars. You were so pretty and blushing, hanging off my arm, desperate to please..." He smiled wistfully as he looked away. Peter blushed. "Then I gave you a little something to drink."

Tony grimaced. "It must not have agreed with you. You passed out pretty quickly. You didn't even make it to the city limits."

"You drugged me?" Peter moved away from the bars, putting as much distance between them as the cage would afford.

"Don't worry. I was careful to give you just enough. It shouldn't have caused you any harm and you only fell asleep so it's not like you hit your head. Drooled a little on my shoulder, though."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because, dear," Tony reached a hand out and touched the bars. "I wanted to. Because you're beautiful. Because I want you."

Peter shuddered. He pulled back from the bars. "You can't just drug people and put them in cages!"

"Why not?" The man grinned. "I'm Tony Stark. I can do whatever I want. I have the money and the resources to make you disappear. According to all legal records, you died last night. Body so unrecognizable that if it weren't for the cell phone that was recovered from the burning car, the police would have no idea it was you."

"You..." Peter blanched. He thought he might puke. "You killed someone... To fake my death?"

"Now even your closest friends and family won't be looking for you. You don't exist any more." The sparkle in his eye was so self satisfied that Peter wanted to punch him.

"I'm sure this is a lot to take in," Tony smirked. "I'll leave you to think it through."

He stood and turned away from the cage.

"You're just going to leave me like this?" Peter's fingers wrapped around the bars once more.

"You're mine now, dear. I can do whatever I like with you. Do yourself a favor and accept it."

Tony kept walking, all the way up the stairs, ignoring Peter as he called out to him.

Peter wrapped his arms around his legs. The basement was cold and dim. He felt alone. He felt lost. It made him sick what Tony had done. Was it possible that his aunt really believed he was dead? She had to know that he was still alive. She had to be looking for him. He clung tightly to the idea that May would somehow figure it out and send the police to rescue him.

By the time Tony returned, Peter was sore from sitting on the thin cushion, which he had realized was nothing more than a large dog bed.

"So, how are you fairing?" Tony called. His voice was sympathetic. "Scared? Hungry? I brought you some dinner."

Dinner? Peter thought. How long had he been down there in the basement?

Peter refused to meet his eye. "I want to go home."

"You are home, dear."

There was a thunk as Tony set the plate he was holding on a table. "Would you like to eat?"

"I want to go home," Peter repeated.

Tony sighed. "I'm going to let you out and you're going to eat your food. And we're not going to have anymore talk of this 'going home' business."

Peter bit his lip. He kept his gaze locked on the cage's latch. He saw only Tony's legs as he walked around the cage and unlocked the padlock. He slid the latch open.

Peter pushed against the cage door, knocking Tony back a step. He bolted for the stairs. Fear and panic burned through him as adrenaline propelled him up the stairs. His hand wrapped around the door handle and Peter screamed as hot pain shot up his arm.

He couldn't let go. The muscles in his hand, in his arm, wouldn't obey him. Electricity locked his muscles in place as pain blinded him.

He heard Tony's footsteps on the stairs. He moved slowly. Taking each step at a snail's pace. Then, stepping up behind Peter, he stuck a key in the deadbolt and the pain stopped. Tony pulled Peter's hand away from the door before taking the key back.

Tony held Peter, back against his chest. His hand pet his hair as he sobbed. "If you disobey me, Peter, punishment will come swiftly. You must learn to do as I say."

He lead Peter, dazed with pain, back to the cage and helped him inside. He closed the door and locked it again. Then he went back upstairs, taking the food with him.

Peter laid on his bed and cried. His arm ached. He was afraid of being stuck in that cage forever. He wanted to go home. It was hard to believe that any of this was even real. How could it be real? He didn't want to be part of a reality where his hero was a monster who thought that he could steal people away, fake their deaths, and keep them in their basement. Closing his eyes didn't bring him back to his own apartment or even to the party at Stark Tower.

The bars of the cage dug into his back as he leaned against it. He had to find a way out of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***AN: this isn't tagged as feminization, despite that Peter is forced to wear 'female clothes' in this chapter. The point is not to feminize, I just like cute boys being cute (fight me), but I thought it deserved a warning for anyone who might still be bothered.

When Tony came back for him, Peter was weak with hunger. The hunger pains had grown to an impossible degree before stopping entirely several hours later. He wasn’t even sure that he would be able to keep anything down.

But Tony must have anticipated this because what he offered Peter was in a tall glass and looked like a vanilla milkshake.

Opening the cage and helping the boy out to sit on the floor, he pushed the glass into Peter’s shaking hands. He wrapped a blanket around his trembling shoulders and sat down beside him, holding him tucked against Tony’s side with a strong arm.

Peter whimpered in fear, but allowed Tony to hold him as he sipped. He'd never felt so trapped or so weak in his life.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know that must have been hard, but you had to be punished.” His voice almost sounded like he felt bad.

He pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple and the boy choked on his drink. He coughed for a moment and then recovered.

“Is it good, baby? Do you like it?”

Afraid Tony would take the drink away if he didn’t agree, he said, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Tony smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. I’ll always treat you well if you behave.”

Peter didn’t say anything to that, just sipped his drink. He kept thinking about the word 'always' and that Tony expected him to stay here 'always'. A little sob escaped him, making him choke again. It took a long time with Peter carefully sipping to make sure he didn’t throw it back up, but he did eventually drink the whole thing. Then Tony took the glass from his hands put it on the table.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, dear.” He took Peter’s hands in a grip that offered no room for argument and pulled him up. He lead him to a door and Peter flinched when Tony grabbed the handle, but of course it didn’t shock him. It opened with ease.

Inside was a small, but tidy, bathroom. It wasn’t anything more than a sink, a toilet, and a shower tub. Peter noticed that were no toiletries to be seen, but Tony unlocked a closet door and there they were. He took out some towels and soap and set them on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Alright, baby. Get undressed.” Tony stepped away from him and turned on the shower. He fiddled with the water temperature.

Peter looked back through the open bathroom door to where the stairs were. His arm ached more the longer he stared. When he looked back at Tony the man was watching him with a gentle smile.

“Do you need some help, dear?”

Peter quickly shook his head. “N-no, thank you.”

He stepped a little further into the room and started to take his shirt off. Tony continued to stand there… watching.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Are you just gonna… Are you gonna…”

“Relax, dear. I won’t hurt you.”

“But…” Peter chewed his lip.

“Get undressed, Peter,” Tony said. Something about the way he said his name held a warning.

Trying not to cry, though he wanted to, Peter stripped away the rest of his clothes. It wasn't like he'd never undressed in front someone like this, but they way Tony watched him made it a violation. He stood bare, hands covering his junk, body turned just slightly away from Tony.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Tony said, he pulled back the shower curtain so Peter could step in.

Hesitantly, Peter walked under his arm and stepped into the tub. The water brought instant relief to his aching body. He felt like he wanted to curl up and sleep under its warm spray. He only had a moment to let the water wash the first layer of grime from his skin before the curtain opened.

Naked, Tony stepped in behind him. Peter froze.

Embarrassingly, the first thought to strike him was how sexy and muscular Tony’s body was. He had a scar in the center of his chest as if someone had tried to stab him to only moderate success. Peter could imagine why someone would want to stab this guy. He can pretend to be the philanthropist billionaire all he wanted, but Peter knew better now. Still, the scar only made him look that much stronger.

“Let me clean you up, sweetheart,” Tony said sweetly, as if they were lovers. As if he weren’t a kidnapper. As if he weren't holding Peter against his will and keeping him in a cage like an animal.

“That’s okay,” Peter said. “I can do it myself.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. His jaw ticked. Clearly that was the wrong answer.

First there was the sting of Tony’s hand against his face, then the pain of his hair being pulled as Tony grabbed the hair at the back of his neck. He bent his head backward, turning it up into the pounding spray of falling water. Peter sputtered, thrashing, as water overwhelmed him, going into his nose and blinding him. His nails scratched at Tony’s arm but another hand took both of his wrists and pulled them away. He was too strong and Peter was exhausted from his time spent in the cage. Tony was going to drown him.

Then after what felt like far too long, Tony pulled him out from under the water and let him go. Peter fell into the bottom of the tub, coughing and snorting water from his nose.

“I warned you, Peter. Be a good boy. I don’t know why you’re being so ungrateful when I’m allowing you to have this nice shower.”

Peter sobbed. The tears flowed in streams.

“Oh baby boy. You did it to yourself you know.” Tony crouched and pulled Peter into his arms.

Peter was torn between disgust and letting himself melt into Tony’s arms. He held himself rigid as Tony acted to soothe him. It became harder to resist the longer Tony held him. He was tired and so emotionally drained. All he wanted was comfort.

“Let’s get you cleaned up now, baby,” Tony said.

Peter nodded and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet.

Tony was gentle, handling him like a lover. Like he was precious. Yet every touch increased the growing nausea in his stomach. He carefully scrubbed away sweat and dirt from Peter’s skin. He started with his arms, then worked his way up to massage his shoulders as he cleaned them. As he worked down his back, Peter was hyper away of his hands growing near places he didn’t want them. Peter flinched when Tony reached his ass, soap slick cloth scrubbing away. He bit into his lip, held his breath, so he wouldn’t scream when Tony handled his balls, ran the cloth over his cock. The moment lingered a little too long before he bent to clean Peter’s legs.

Then the scrubbing was over. Peter felt himself wanting to relax again as Tony’s fingers massaged his scalp. A bead of water ran down his forehead and he flinched. Tony took his hands away from his foamy hair.

“Rinse your hair, baby,” he said.

Peter swallowed. Carefully, he let the water wash over his head. He tried not to panic as some of it ran down into his face. Then all of the soap was out and it was round two as Tony massaged conditioner into his scalp.

“Feeling better, dear?”

Peter eyes burned with unshed tears. Nothing about this situation could ever make him feel better. But he was tired and he would say anything to keep Tony from torturing him again.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Thank you,” he sniffled.

Tony placed a kiss on the back of his neck. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Peter rinsed his hair again, holding his breath as water washed over him. Then all of the suds were swirling down the drain and the water was starting to turn cold.

Tony turned the water off and stepped out. Peter stayed put, wrapping his arms around himself. He waited until Tony opened the curtain again, a towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hands.

He was still and quiet as Tony dried his hair. That gentle caring touch returned as Tony toweled him off. Peter shivered. Then Tony took away the wet towel and hung it up. He opened the closet and took out a bundle of clothes. Peter wasn’t thrilled by the pink and blue fabric that was obviously intended for a woman his size. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he refused to put then on.

Taking a pair of pink panties from the pile, Tony gave him a small smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Peter stepped slowly forward. Tony held up the scrap of fabric, clearly expecting Peter to step in with Tony’s help. He let the man slide the soft material up his thighs. He shivered as it covered him, not expecting how good the softness would feel against his crotch.

Tony helped him into white leggings and a pale pink skirt. A pink sweater went on top. Then the man looked him over with a smile that contrasted the darkness growing in his eyes.

“Aren't you pretty...” His voice seemed lower.

Peter shivered. Tony’s hand was on his thigh, thumb rubbing his skin through the thin leggings. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Tony kissed his cheek. “Now remember, dear,” he said, his eyes alight with fire. He gripped Peter's chin, forcing to meet his eye. “You are mine. And I will do anything with you that I please. If you misbehave, I will punish you. I’m being very kind to explain this to you again. But I want to make sure you understand.”

His hand slid up under Peter’s sweater. His skin twitched under his caress. “You are my little doll. Peter Parker is dead.” He smiled and kissed Peter’s forehead.

Peter whimpered, biting his lip as if he could take the sound back, but Tony didn’t seem to mind.

“Come on now.” Tony took his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. He walked him back to his cage.

Peter’s feet planted themselves on the ground at the sight of it. It took some convincing to get himself inside, but he wasn’t mentally prepared for another of Tony’s punishments. At least in the cage, Tony left him alone. He almost felt safe as the man locked the door shut once more.


	3. Chapter 3

When Peter woke again, Tony was already back down in the basement. His stomach growled with hunger. He looked at the tray sitting on the table and at Tony who sat in a chair nearby, reading something on his phone. The lighting in the room seemed a little brighter.

The cage was already open. Hoping he was allowed, Peter crawled out of the cage, but then he stopped. He stood just outside of the cage, skirt hanging around his waist wondering what to do next.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked quietly. He hoped interrupting the man’s reading wouldn’t set him off.

“What is it, little one?”

Peter’s face burned. The clothes were bad enough. Being spoken to like a child was worse.

“I’m hungry…” He glanced at the tray of food.

Tony smiled. “I brought you dinner.”

Looking at the table, Peter covered his hands with the sleeves of his sweater. “Thank you.”

He glanced at Tony then slowly shuffled forward.

“Oh no, dear,” Tony said. “You wouldn’t want to me to think you were ungrateful. Would you?”

Peter shook his head. “No, sir.”

Tony smiled. “Come here then, stand in front me.”

Tony set his phone aside. Peter caught himself noting the way the man sat with his legs splayed open. He stood just a few inches from him.

Tony looked him over. “Turn around, doll.”

Peter turned. The feeling of Tony’s eyes watching him from behind gave him goosebumps.

“Take the leggings off.”

Peter chewed his lip. He reached under the skirt to grab the top of the tight material and pulled it down to his thighs, but Tony stopped him.

“Bend. At the waist. Go slowly.”

Peter swallowed. He had expected this to take a gross fetishy turn the minute he saw the panties. But the tray on the table smelled like herbs and warm tomatoes. So he bent.

He felt dirty knowing that Tony was watching him like a pervert as he bent over, sticking his ass straight out. He was careful as he stepped out of the leggings, made sure he was still holding himself bent properly to avoid pissing the guy off.

“Turn around, baby. Come here.”

Peter turned and closed the space between them. Tony smoothed his hands down one of Peter’s thighs. He gripped his calf and pulled his leg up onto the chair, between his spread legs.

He made a disapproving sound. “This will have to be shaved. I won’t have a hairy doll.”

Peter stopped the whine before it escaped his throat. He wanted to kick him. Tell him that he wasn’t a doll or a toy and he couldn’t just modify him anyway he liked. Fear was growing cold in his belly.

Tony’s hands smoothed over the backs of his thighs. He put Peter’s foot back down on the floor.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Peter turned. He shivered as Tony’s hands slid up under his skirt.

“Bend over.”

He could feel the skirt ride up until it wasn’t quite covering his ass anymore. The panties weren’t enough to cover his ass in the first place and his cheeks were hanging out.

Tony moaned his approval as he felt him up. Then his hand slipped between Peter’s legs, rubbing against the soft material that felt a little too good against his balls. Peter jumped, pulling himself away.

“No!” He couldn’t stop himself. His hands held down the skirt as he backed away.

Tony’s expression was deadly. Peter panicked.

“Mr. Stark! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, sir. Please!” He backed away, hands out as if he could hold him at bay. Ignoring his babbling pleas, Tony stalked toward him. He grabbed the boy by his hair.

“I clothed you,” he growled. “Brought you food. And here you act like an ungrateful brat. You don’t deserve the things I give you.”

He slapped him. Peter’s ears rang and the only thing keeping him on his feet was the hold in his hair.

Tony’s hand slid under his skirt, feeling him without regard for Peter’s comfort. Then his hand closed around the fabric and pulled, burning against Peter’s skin as it tore away. Tony held them up in front of his face.

“If you can’t behave, I won’t give you nice things. I’ll treat you like the toy you are.”

Peter flinched at the tone, at the dark glare in Tony’s eyes. He opened his mouth to apologize again and Tony stuffed the torn panties past his lips. He gripped Peter’s chin, fingers digging in too tight.

“Your mouth is not for speaking. Toys don’t speak.” He slapped him again and Peter sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Your mouth,” Tony smirked. “Is for sucking cock. And eating, only when I allow it. That’s it. Nothing else. Dolls don’t have mouths. They have cock holes.”

Tony dragged him by the hair to the table. He knocked the tray of food off of the table and Peter sobbed as his stomach growled again. Tony bent him over it.

“Don’t you dare move,” he growled.

As he walked away Peter looked over his shoulder at the stairs. A part of him told him to try again, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to open it without the key. He stayed and he sobbed.

Tony came back with padded cuffs. He strapped Peter’s wrists to opposite legs of the table and did the same with his ankles.

When he came around to Peter’s front the boy shuddered at the device in his hands.

“You like it?” Tony smirked. “This will keep your hole open for me.”

He pulled the panties from Peter’s lips and shoved the metal into his mouth. The ring fit behind his teeth and kept his mouth open about as wide as it could physically go. Tony locked the strap behind his head, pulling it tight. Peter could already feel drool starting to gather, pooling in his mouth where he couldn’t stop it from running over his lips.

Tony watched him with a cruel smirk as he tried to escape the gag, tried to stop the spit that was running down his chin. Then he was pulling open his pants and Peter was tugging at his restraints.

Tony pressed two fingers against Peter’s tongue. “It’s time you learned what this hole is for, doll. Because it’s certainly not for telling me ‘no’.”

He didn’t give Peter the time to figure it out. He took out his cock and shoved in until the boy’s nose was crushed against his pelvis and he thrashed in his bindings. Tony laughed as the tight throat convulsed and the boy reached the highest possible level of panic. He pulled out and watched him choke down air.

“What are you so worried about, doll? This is what you’re made for. We’re going be spending a lot of time, just like this.”

He pushed in again, using Peter’s hair like a handle as he fucked his face. Every choking, gagging, wet sound, made Tony moan.

Peter was in hell, every thrust of the man’s hips drove his cock into his throat, forcing it open. His face was wet with a variety of fluids. His jaw was starting to ache from being open too wide. His lungs burned and his head spun from the limited air. For a moment, he almost wanted Tony to let him suffocate.

Then he finally pulled his cock from Peter’s lips. Before he could blink, gooey, sticky, cum was splattering on his face. Tony wiped the tip of his cock against Peter’s cheek as he blinked up at him, cum gooping one of his eyes shut.

“Much better,” Tony sighed. “Just what I wanted you to be. A silent, cum coated, toy.”

He turned away and went to a table against the wall. He opened a box that rested on top. Peter shifted in his binds. That was the box he’d gotten the gag from.

When Tony returned, he was holding a flesh colored dildo in his fist.

“I’m going to clean up the mess you made. This is going to keep your disobedient mouth busy.” Tony shoved the toy through the gag, into his mouth. Peter choked, but it didn’t cut off his air the way Tony’s cock had.

“If this falls out of your mouth, I’m going to shove it in your ass dry and leave you here until morning.”

Peter choked again, biting down on the toy, metal digging into his mouth until he relaxed. Tony didn’t bother asking if he understood. He left there and walked away. Peter could hear the man behind him, picking up the spilled food.

It was a difficult task, keeping the thing in his mouth when his body kept telling him to spit it out. He was at constant war with himself. His throat would convulse or his head would jerk like his biology was working against him. But if it hurt that badly to have a cock stuffed in his throat, a place which was slick with spit and mucus, he couldn’t imagine the pain of having something shoved in him completely dry. Fear kept him dropping the toy, long after Tony had cleaned up the mess.

When Tony went up stairs and never came back down, Peter despaired, thinking he had been left all night while Tony went to sleep. Relief soared through him when he heard the door open.

Tony came into view, walking around the table. Peter couldn’t help the whine that escaped him, begging to be released.

“Good doll,” Tony grinned. “I’m so proud of you.” He pet Peter’s sweaty hair.

Then slowly, he pulled the cock out. He unbuckled the gag and pulled it out of Peter’s mouth. The boy groaned in pain as his mouth finally closed. Tony’s fingers massaged the hinges of his jaw. Peter sighed in relief.

Tony went to the bathroom and came back with a wash cloth. Peter cringed as Tony cleaned his face with cold water, but at least he could open both of his eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” Peter croaked.

Tony beamed. “I always take good care of my things.”

Peter shivered. It was horrifying the way Tony dehumanized him, but maybe he’d brought it on himself by acting out- What was he thinking? Tony didn’t have any right to touch him. Tears filled Peter’s eyes once again. What was this hell he was trapped in?

Tony uncuffed him from the table. He rubbed the bite of the metal from his skin. Then he pulled Peter into his lap. He held him in arms, rubbing his back through the soft sweater. Peter couldn’t help but sob into his chest.

After a moment, Tony let him go. Then he was holding out a water bottle. It took him a moment to figure out when Tony wanted, but when he realized, he blushed. He stepped closer and let Tony press the bottle to his lips. He went slowly, letting Peter drink more than half the bottle in steady sips.

“Need to use the bathroom, doll?”

Peter nodded his head. He got a glare from Tony.

“You answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, sir. I do,” Peter corrected his mistake.

Tony gestured to the bathroom door. “Help yourself. Don’t be too long.”

The bathroom was once again void of all toiletries, aside from toilet paper, some soap, and a hand towel, when Peter stepped inside. The closet door was locked keeping anything Tony didn’t want him to have out of reach.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and felt sick. He already looked a bit thinner in the cheeks and there were dark circles under his eyes. More than anything he wished he had enough fight in him to make a break for it while he was untied. It was worth facing the door’s shocks to try again. He just didn’t think he could make it that far. He didn’t have the energy to run being so exhausted and hungry.

So he did his business and left the bathroom.

He didn’t fight as Tony tucked him back away in his cage. He even sighed with relief as the man disappeared back upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In this chapter, Peter briefly experiences a panic attack

Peter woke up alone. Unusual, but certainly not unwelcome. It wasn't as if he looked forward to seeing Tony. Except that he did, given that Tony was the only stopping him from staring up at the ceiling until he went insane. He looked around, but nothing in the room was different. Though he did find, tucked in the corner of the cage, next to the door, were two strawberry breakfast bars and a bottle of water. He couldn’t help the teary eyed smile that hit him. He was so hungry.

The bars didn’t quite fill him up, but it took away the hunger pain. By the time he had finished the water off, he felt a million times better. And then he felt very sleepy.

He woke again later in a panic.

His arms were cuffed at his sides, the chain between his wrists laying under his back. There was something covering his face, but he couldn’t reach it. He thought for a second that he might suffocate, but there was plenty of air. Whatever it was was only there to blind him.

A gag filled his mouth. His ankles were cuffed too and seemed to be chained to his wrists so that he couldn’t reach the hood over his head. He screamed through the gag and heard nothing, panicking again until he realized that there was something in his ears.

Peter sobbed, giving up the fight against his bonds. All he could think of was Tony coming back to let him out. But maybe he’d pissed him off too much and the man had decided to kill him this way. He could just leave him trussed up in the basement and replace him with another toy. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He was hyper aware of the wet sensation and it gave him chills.

If he’d thought he was scared before… He didn’t have a word for how he felt now. His terror was bone deep and chilling. He struggled to breath as panic took him over, as his mind became convinced he would die here and now in this cage. No one would know. Everyone already thought he was dead. Tony could do anything he wanted with, including leaving him to die and there would be no consequences because no one would ever come looking for him.

There was too much spit in his mouth from the gag and when he choked in a desperate breath he pulled spit into his lungs and ended up choking on it. He could hear a wheeze in his lungs for a moment. It was the only sound he could hear aside from his racing heart. He pulled against the chain under his back, wanting more than anything to take the ear plugs out, at least let him hear that low hum of the water heater in the corner or the creaking of floorboards overhead. Hearing nothing at all was torture. This whole thing was torture. Every moment since waking up in this basement had been.

He tried to calm himself. He thought of his aunt, the ferociously strong woman that she was, she would have had the coroners run every possible test to be sure it was him. They would find something. She would know. She would question every Stark Industries employee in the building until she found out that someone had seen Tony talking with Peter that night. He wasn't going to die. The police would come. Aunt May would come. And what good when it do if he was dead when they got here?

Again he panicked, thrashing, pulling, rubbing his wrists sore. He screamed and he couldn't even hear it. He begged Mr. Stark to let him out. He swore he'd do anything. Anything at all. Please don't let him die like this. He'd do anything. Please.

\---

Tony was, of course, in the basement when Peter woke up this time. He wanted to watch the pretty little thing suffer.

He watched Peter thrash around, scream and sob with each new discovery. Pleasure sparked through his mind as Peter cried, unable to even hear his own pathetic sobs.

Legs spread wide, Tony pumped his cock in his hand. His toy was so beautiful. He watched as the boy tried again and again to calm himself, but his own mind would send him again into a panic. He wanted so badly to pull him out of that cage and bend him over the table. Senses cut off, he would feel it ten times over when Tony fucked his little virgin ass.

Tony moaned. He was the luckiest man in the world.

He spent several hours, watching the boy cry and panic. He got himself off more than once as he tried to call for him, muffled through the gag. He begged Tony to help him. It was glorious, watching the boy’s mind unravel until he understood that he belonged to Tony. That he needed Tony. He was such a perfect little toy. Or he would be when came to be this desperate for him without all the bondage.

This was just one more step in the plan to break him. The training, the brainwashing, the gaslighting. No Peter Parker wasn't dead, not yet. But he would be. At least in a sense. By the time Tony was done breaking him, that sweet little thing, whimpering in his cage, would have forgotten his own name.

He left him like that for four hours. He was sure to Peter it must have felt like days. He checked the cameras and the footage was perfect. You could hear every choking plea, every sniffle, every sob. He was going to spend a lot of time enjoying this moment even when it was long over.

He unlocked the cage. He glanced at the syringe he had prepared and left on the table. He didn't need it. Besides, this would be more fun. All it took was for him to reach in, careful not to touch so Peter wouldn't know he was there, and pull the hood shut. There was a cord that wrapped around the neck, leaving it loose meant Peter could breath, but with it closed... Tony imagined the grin on his face was something like a cartoon villain, but he couldn't help himself. He watched the boy fight to pull the hood off as he realized he had run out of air. Every breath he took replaced precious oxygen with carbon dioxide. Staying that way too long would of course be deadly.

Tony watched him thrash as his own cock made a valiant effort to get hard again despite cumming four times in the last four hours already. Once Peter was still, Tony waited just a few seconds to be sure he was unconscious before releasing the hood. He watched his chest rise and fall, making sure his breathing returned to normal before he slid him out of the cage and finally used the syringe to keep him under while he made this night disappear into one of Peter's nightmares.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****This chapter features gaslighting and a mild panic attack

When Tony next let Peter out of the cage, his mind was hazy. He kept blinking as if that would help him make sense of it. Then Tony touched his arm and Peter felt himself pushing back into the touch. He blushed, humiliated to feel that he needed his captor. After having his senses cut off, he felt desperate to be touched. All he had felt inside the cage was cold.

“I hope you’re hungry, doll.”

Peter nodded then flinched as he remembered to speak. “Yes, sir.” His voice was hardly more than a whisper after all of his screaming.

Tony lead him to the table and pulled Peter into his lap. He sighed and leaned into Tony’s chest. Tony wrapped an arm around his waist and he shivered in pleasure.

“Please don’t do that to me again, sir,” Peter begged. “Please.” He sniffled.

“Do what, my toy? The cage? You have to sleep there until you’re trained, doll.”

Peter shook his head. “No, sir, I meant… The cuffs and the… The hood, sir.”

“You mean the gag? When I used your cock hole last night?” Tony traced Peter’s bottom lip with his thumb.

He shook his head. “No, sir, when you… I mean when… I couldn’t see or hear or…”

“Sounds like you had a nightmare, doll.” Tony nuzzled his neck. “But you’re safe now. It was just a dream.”

Peter’s brow scrunched in confusion. A dream? But he remembered it so clearly. He had screamed and cried for hours. He had screamed until his throat bled, desperate to hear anything over than the blood moving through his skull.

“But it couldn’t have-”

Tony lightly slapped his thigh. “Don’t argue with your master. It’s time to have breakfast now and then we’ll clean you up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony picked up a spoon and scooped up scrambled eggs from the plate. He brought them up to Peter’s mouth. Peter blushed. He didn’t want Tony to feed him like a child, but he knew asking to do it himself would get him punished again. Plus, he was pretty sure that without the warmth of Tony’s body against him, he might go insane. So he opened his mouth.

Peter let Tony feed him everything on his plate and then wipe his mouth clean. He even held Peter’s glass for him while he drank from a straw. If he hadn’t been kidnapped, the attention might actually feel nice. Maybe, if he didn't feel so childish.

After eating, Tony gave Peter a minute alone in the bathroom, saying he was going upstairs to get something. Peter counted to twenty, then he tried the bathroom door. Tony had locked him in. The closet door was lock, too. So unless he managed to pull the sink from the wall and use it as a weapon, there was nothing to be done about his situation.

Tony came back a few minutes later and got the shower ready for them. He helped Peter out of his clothes, making the boy shiver as he caressed the soft skin underneath. Then he helped the boy into the shower.

Warm water ran over Peter’s shoulders, soothing aching muscles. He coughed, anxious, feeling for a minute like he was drowning again, but he took a deep breath and the moment passed. Cold air made him shiver as Tony moved the curtain to step in with him.

Same as before Tony washed him. His touch was tender and thorough as he scrubbed away the dirt. Peter gasped as Tony allowed one hand to feel him up while the other washed him. Tony’s hand slid slowly up his thigh. It palmed his ass, spending a long time squeezing and feeling. Then it moved up his back, around his chest, down his belly. Peter’s breath became shallow. The hand kept moving down, then it wrapped around his cock.

“Please, don’t,” Peter breathed, the sound barely audible above the spray of the shower. If Tony heard him, he didn’t react.

His soapy hand pumped Peter’s cock. To the boy’s horror, he felt himself throbbing in the man’s fist. To his credit, it had been a very long time since he’d touched himself. Half hard, Tony let go of the boy’s cock. A satisfied smile crossed his face, but he said nothing.

He guided Peter to step back into the water. His hand reached up and twisted in his hair, but he didn’t pull him under. It was a reminder that he could. Soap washed down the drain and then it was time to wash his hair. Tony didn’t try anything else, simply massaged his scalp, almost convincing Peter to relax.

Hair clean, Peter thought they were done. Then Tony picked up a razor. He turned off the shower and let the water run from the spigot.

“Sit down, doll,” Tony helped him sit on the edge of the tub as if he thought he would fall.

Peter chewed his lip, watching Tony crouch in the tub. He coated Peter’s calf in fluffy white shaving cream. He almost sobbed, but he reminded himself that this was probably the least invasive thing Tony had forced on him and he sat still and he let it happen.

It took a surprisingly long time to rid his legs of all their hair. The water running from the tap was growing cold by the time Tony turned it off. Then he helped Peter out of the tub.

The first thing he noticed was that his legs were really sensitive now and it felt weird when Tony dried him with the towel.

Then Tony was rubbing some kind of lotion into his skin. He smirked when Peter whimpered as his hands rubbed his sensitive thighs.

Then Tony dressed him in another skirt and sweater. This time, no leggings or panties. Peter was nervous that Tony wanted his ass bare. Between the clothes and the bare legs and Tony not let letting him do anything for himself, he was starting to feel like a real doll.

Tony lead him by the hand, out into the basement. He sat again in his chair near the table. Peter’s stomach clenched thinking of the face fucking he’d got when he told Tony ‘no’.

“Now, my doll. We’ve already had one lesson. Do you remember?” He pressed to fingers to Peter’s lips.

Peter’s cheeks burned as he opened his mouth. Tony pressed his finger inside with a pleased hum. He let Peter gag, bringing a tear to his eyes, but he didn’t fight.

“Very good,” Tony cooed. “We learned that this fuck toy hole belongs to me. It’s not for you to use as you please. This is my cock hole, my cum dump. And not a way for ungrateful sluts to tell their master no. Correct?”

Peter nodded.

“Good, doll.” Tony took his fingers out of Peter’s mouth. “Here’s lesson number two.”

He spun Peter around, pulling his hand behind his back. He felt metal close around his wrists then something soft covered each of his hands, forcing them each into a fist. He squirmed, but Tony tightened something around his wrists. With the cuffs he couldn’t move his hands in front of him, but now he couldn’t open his hands either.

Tony turned Peter back around and smoothed his hands down his sides. “Those fuck toy hands belong to me, too. You’ll only use them for what I want you to and not for trying to cover yourself from me. Nod if you understand.”

Peter nodded.

“Good, doll.” Tony smiled. He stood up and pulled Peter with him, bending him back over the table.

Peter whined. “Please, master,” he whispered.

“What is it, doll? Are you scared?”

Peter nodded. “Don’t worry, my doll. Let master take care of you. You don’t need to think so much.”

But Peter wasn’t a doll and he couldn’t help but think. He didn’t want Tony to hurt him anymore, but as the man cuffed one ankle to the table leg, he could only assume that’s what was happening.

“Please, master! Please- I’ll be good!”

Tony swatted his ass. “That’s enough of that.” He caught Peter’s other leg, despite his best efforts at squirming, and strapped it down. “You should be thanking me for taking the time to teach you.”

Peter whined and laid his face against the table. Tony smacked him again.

“What did I just say?”

“Thank you, master,” Peter whispered.

Tony went to his box of scary things. He turned and came back to the table holding a paddle. Peter whimpered. Tony caressed the side of Peter’s face, petting him like a dog.

“Don’t worry, my doll. I’ll teach you how to get through it and then you'll understand how to be a better doll when I’m done.”

Peter tried not to cry as much as he wanted to.

Tony walked around behind him and flipped his skirt up. “Take a deep breath in, doll.” The paddle struck Peter’s ass and his breath hissed out. “Good, doll. Now focus on the pain. Stop trying to push it away and let it soak in, thinking of spreading, thinning out as it goes.” Tony rubbed his hand over Peter’s ass.

“Can you do it, baby? Do you feel it?”

“Yes, master,” Peter sighed. And it was true. When he wasn’t trying to resist the pain, he could let it sink in deeper where it hurt less. The pain spread, though it stayed centralized where he’d been struck. It wasn’t as punishing as long as he wasn’t tense and fighting it. It almost felt good.

“Good doll. I’m going to keep going.”

Tony spanked him again with the paddle. Peter kept his breathing slow and deep between strikes. As long he didn’t tense too much, it didn’t hurt so badly.

Tony paused after a minute. “What are we learning, doll?”

“What my hands are for, sir?”

“And what are your hands for?”

Peter swallowed. His head felt foggy. “For whatever my master wants.” He could die of humiliation.

“That's right. For pleasing master.”

He started again. Peter whimpered and gasped, but it wasn’t the bloody, screaming, beating, he had expected. He felt tingly, hazy. He didn’t want Tony to stop.

And then he did and he asked Peter again. “What’s the lesson, doll?”

“Fuck toy hands are for pleasing master,” Peter answered immediately.

“Good,” Tony said. He kept going.

Peter wasn’t sure how long they went on for, spanking and stopping. Fuck toy hands are for pleasing master. He felt good. His cock was hard. He wanted to rut against the table. He wanted Tony to touch him. He was drooling. When he tried to rub his thighs together, Tony hit him there too hard and Peter yelped, almost breaking through the fog. Then the slow rhythm returned. Tony asked again.

“Fuck toy hands are for pleasing master.”

The spanking stopped. Tony bent over him, hips pressing against Peter’s sore ass, making him shiver. He kissed Peter’s neck. A hand wrapped around his throat.

“What are you?”  
“I’m a fuck toy,” Peter answered. Tony squeezed his throat. “Master’s fuck toy,” Peter corrected.

Tony kissed his neck again, then turned his head to the side so he could kiss his lips. Peter moaned as his tongue slipped inside. He wanted his master to use him.

Tony climbed off of him. He removed Peter’s hands from the mits, massaging the ache away from being so cramped. Then the cuffs on each of his limbs came off.

Tony sat down and pulled Peter into his lap. He whined when his sore ass met Tony’s thighs. Tony kissed him again.

“You did so good today, my toy.”

Peter smiled. “Thank you, master.” Then his stomach dropped. That wasn’t right. Why was he giving in to him? He wanted to go home! Panic rose up into his throat. He started to breath too fast.

Tony slapped him. Peter gasped. The panic was gone, but he still felt a little sick. Tony’s fingers found his hair and massaged his scalp, relaxing him.

“Remember, doll,” Tony said sweetly. “You’re mine and you’re only worth keeping if you’re a good toy.” He kissed him again.

“Now, you were so good that I’ve decided to leave your cage unlocked. That way when you can stretch your legs and use the bathroom when you need to. Okay?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you, master.”

Tony smiled. He left Peter in the chair to put away the paddle and everything else he’d brought out. The box was locked and tucked away and so were all the things in the bathroom.

“Get some rest, my doll,” Tony said before giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Peter crawled into his cage under the ruse of taking a nap. Once Tony was gone, he could put together a plan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Big warnings: potentially deadly drowning that doesn't end it death, painful sex, Tony being an unapologetic bastard

Peter’s plan failed. He had grabbed the chair from the table and stood with his back to the wall, planning to hit Tony when he came down the stairs. But somehow the man must have seen him, because he dodged as Peter swung the chair at him, leaving it to clatter uselessly against the wall.

He kicked the side of Peter’s leg at the joint and the boy toppled down on hands and knees. Then Tony was stomping down on the small of his back. He grabbed a fist full of Peter’s hair, pulling up and arching his back painfully.

“You thought you could hurt me huh, doll? You’re mine,” Tony growled. “No matter what you do, you’ll always be my toy. Until I decide to get rid of you. You’re never going to leave this basement,” he laughed. “And after I’ve taken such good care of you. I can hardly believe that you would be so ungrateful.”

Dragging him by his hair and a tight grip on the back of his sweater, he pulled Peter into the bathroom. He kicked up the lid of the toilet and pulled Peter towards it.

“Nonono- please! Mr. St- master!” Peter screamed, thrashing, but Tony bent him over the bowl and plunged his head into the water. Bubbles rose to the surface as Peter screamed. His hands scrambled to push him away from the toilet, but Tony was stronger and had all the leverage. His nose and lungs burned as he choked on water. Then Tony pulled him up. He coughed up water, snorting it from his nose, trying to blink clear his burning eyes. Once he could finally pull in air, he used it to plead.

“You belong to me,” Tony said, unmoved by Peter’s begging. “If you’re not useful to me anymore, then I will kill you.” He pushed his head back under the water.

He pulled him up again to threaten, “You’re disposable. I can get a dozen more boys just like you. Be a good toy or I will end you.” He pushed Peter down until his face just touched the water.

“Now you stay right the fuck there. If I turn around and you’re not blowing bubbles I’ll make that face fucking you got look like a wet dream.”

Tony pushed him down. Then his hands left him. Peter considered making a break for it as his lungs ached, but he was too scared. He held his breath, under the water, hoping Tony would pull him out before he broke and pushed away.

For a moment he was grateful as that rough grip pulled him up again.

“I was going to do this gently. In a bed. The right way. But I think you need another lesson. There’s not a part of you that doesn’t belong to me, fuck doll. And there’s no escaping it.”

Peter heard the snap of a bottle top, the a slick finger pushed inside of his ass. He gasped and squirmed away but a hand on his shoulder held him in place.

“Better focus on breathing while you still can, sweetheart.”

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony jerked his head back. “It’s too late for ‘Mr. Stark’s. You know better than that.”

Peter whimpered. “Master… please.”

“Very good. You can learn.”

The finger was removed. Tony shifted behind him. Peter braced himself.

“Please don’t,” he sobbed, still coughing up water.

Then Tony’s cock was pushing up inside, splitting him open. He screamed. It was too much all at once. He’d never taken more than a few fingers. He’d never been fucked before. And Tony didn’t care. He held him tight, fucking him open, as Peter whined and shrieked.

Then he was bubbling under the water again and Tony held him down and fucked him. He didn’t let him up again until the fight left his tired body. When Tony pulled him up, he was nothing more than a dripping, exhausted, ragdoll.

“That’s a good fucking hole,” Tony moaned. “So tight.”

Tony pulled both of Peter’s arms behind his back, holding his wrists in one hand. The other gripped his wet hair.

Peter whimpered, “No, please. Master no- please!”

Tony leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Shh sh sh, baby,” he cooed. His cock pressed in deep and moaned in pleasure. “Keep fucking squeezing me while I kill you.”

He plunged Peter’s face back into the bowel. Fucking him as he thrashed, strength renewed by the threat of death. Head underwater, he just caught the sound of laughter when he thrashed enough to pull himself up. Tony kept fucking him, riding him as he tried to escape. It was hard to say which was more terrifying. The pain and violation of Tony inside him or the potential to drown on the bathroom floor.

Peter’s lungs burned and he knew he couldn’t hold his breath much longer. His lungs were trying to force him to suck in, but there was only water. He kept fighting to get to the surface before his lungs filled with it. He was sobbing, thrashing, snorting water in through his nose. He felt Tony’s hips jerk, out of rhythm, then warm, wet, cum filled his ass.

He wasn’t expecting Tony to pull him back up, but he did. He coughed and choked, lungs aching, burning. There was still so much water He cried and shook. Tony cooed to him and rocked him in his arms.

“It’s alright now, baby. I know you’re sorry. You won’t do it again will you?”

Peter shook his head, sniffling and snorting water. “No, master. I won’t, I’m sorry.” He leaned into Tony’s chest as he held him. His whole body was shaking and he couldn't stop. Tony's hand stroked his arm, helping to calm the shakes. Peter thought he might throw up.

He pet Peter's wet hair. “Now you be a good toy and go back to your cage for the night.”

Peter sobbed. He didn’t want to be locked up again. “Please…” He whispered.

“I don’t think you have any right to ask for a single thing after that stunt you pulled. Isn’t that right, doll?”

Peter nodded. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled himself out of Tony’s arms, crawling across the floor, too unsteady to stand. Somehow he made it to the cage and crawled inside. Tony came and locked the door.

He managed to wait until Tony was gone before he started crying again. He couldn't stop coughing, trying to get that last bit of water out of his lungs. He kept crying until his eyes were raw and he was too exhausted to keep them open any longer.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter couldn’t help the way his body shook as Tony approached the cage. He felt like a prey animal, like a rabbit being stared down by a wolf. He jumped when the cage opened.

“Come on, doll,” Tony said. He didn’t sound angry and Peter would do anything to keep him that way.

He crawled out of his cage and knelt at the man’s feet. The side of his face lit up in pain as a hand slapped him. With tears in his eyes he looked up at Tony in terror.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “You really pissed me off yesterday. I’m not finished being disappointed in you. Clearly, I’ve been too easy on you. You don’t understand that what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You’re my toy.”

Peter bit his lip as he looked away at the wall. Tony gripped his chin and turned his head back. He glared and after a moment he let Peter go. He walked away to the table in the middle of the room. “Come here,” he barked over his shoulder.

Peter crawled to the table and Tony hauled him up. He was pliant as Tony strapped each of his limbs to a table leg, tied down on his back. He was afraid for Tony to hurt him, but he was more afraid to die now that he knew he was disposable. Tony went to the box and came back with the ring gag. Peter bit his lip, turning his head again, but Tony wasn’t in the mood for games. He yanked on Peter’s hair hard enough that his mouth opened in shock and he stuffed the ring inside. He whined as the gag was strapped to his head.

“That’s better.” Tony stroked his cheek. He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. “Now, you’re perfect. A toy that can’t do anything but take what it’s given.”

Peter whimpered. He was terrified. He didn’t like where this was going.

Tony walked away behind him and Peter heard opening a door. There must have been a closet under the stairs he hadn’t noticed yet. Something on wheels rolled across the floor. Peter lifted his head up and eyes went wide. It was a machine with a dildo on the end of it. He swallowed, nearly choking. Tony grinned.

“It’s going to be a long day for you, doll.”

To Peter’s utter horror, there was more than one machine. Tony wheeled out a second cart and positioned it by Peter’s head. He shifted Peter on the table until his head hung over the side. Peter fought, but there was nowhere to go as Tony positioned the dildo in mouth. He couldn’t even pick his head back up.

Then Tony walked around the table and went to the other machine. There was a wet noise as Tony lubed it up, then he was pushing it inside as Peter tried to kick. His panic made him choke on the dildo in his mouth and it took a minute of Tony rubbing a hand over his belly to calm him down.

With a finishing touch of a cock ring around Peter’s, embarrassingly, semi hard cock, Tony stepped back to admire his work.

“Time to learn a lesson, doll,” he said. Then, remotely, he turned on the machines.

—

Peter probably wasn’t aware of the sounds he was making, but they were delicious. He sounded so terrified and so slutty. All of his wet choking and gagging and the sloppy sound of his ass getting fucked. He couldn’t see Tony standing beside the table, but he was there, watching. He finally looked like the toy he was.

He was strapped down pretty tight, but he was still trying to fight it. Tony didn’t have any intention of letting him go until he stopped struggling and accepted it. He wasn’t any good to Tony if he was going keep trying to escape. Not that Tony had any intention of replacing him. He hadn’t gone to all of this trouble for just anyone. Peter was special. He just needed his special little doll to be more cooperative.

He kept an eye on the time. It was only twenty minutes before the poor thing was sobbing. Tony didn’t have an ounce of pity for him. His own cock was throbbing while Peter’s had gone soft. He looked so good getting spit roasted like that. Tony tortured them both for an hour, stopping only to make sure the cock in his ass stayed slick and once to give Peter some water, before he stopped the machines.

The pulled the one free from Peter’s mouth and helped him lift his head.

“That’s a good doll,” Tony purred. He couldn’t get enough of the glassy, glazed look in his eyes. The boy blinked like he was coming out of a dream, then he whined around the gag.

“Trying to apologize? You want master to know how sorry you are for trying to run away? Don’t worry, doll. I know. You’ll be a good pet from now on won’t you?”

Peter nodded. His lips were all shiny with spit and Tony traced them with his finger. He stuck his finger in his mouth and proded at Peter’s throat making him gag. He did it again just because it made his cock throb to watch him suffer.

“I’m going to teach you to love this. You’re going to get so hard just from having a cock in you.” Those wide eyes were so shiny and frightened looking up at him. He could hardly resist stuffing his cock into his open mouth. He turned on the machine between his spread legs enjoying the choked, gurgling sound Peter made as it stuff his ass once again.

Tony walked around the table. Peter’s cock was soft and small between his legs, but Tony knew he’d been half hard through most of his punishment. He was capable of getting off on this. He just needed the right encouragement. The boy mewled when Tony took his cock in hand. Soft, it was small enough to fit in his palm and he rubbed it with his thumb.

“That’s a good doll,” Tony cooed. “How’s that cock feel inside you?” He licked his lips, watching it stretch that little hole wide, and plunge in deep. His cock gave a little jealous twitch.

“That’s what this pretty pussy’s for isn’t it?” He trailed a hand down Peter’s thigh and traced his sore opening with a finger. They’d have to stop soon if he didn’t want to damage him. Not that Tony minded if the boy cried when Tony fucked him. Maybe he should let him get all sore and raw. He’d sound so pretty…

“What’s this hole for, tell me, doll?” Tony kept teasing his cock, pleased it was starting to grow in his hand. Peter didn’t answer him. Tony slapped his thigh and watched the skin turn pink. “What’s it for, doll?”

It must have been terribly difficult to speak with the ring gag in, and humiliating too, but Peter did his best and Tony understood when he said, “For cock, sir.”

“That’s right. All of your holes are cock holes.” It was just perfect the way his body shivered, the way his cock was fully hard now. He was a perfect toy. He was made to be Tony’s little doll. His own cock was getting painful. He needed to cum and soon. He kept playing with Peter’s cock while the machine fucked him until he was leaking, trying to stop little moans from escaping his open mouth.

He turned the machine off and carefully removed the toy from Peter’s ass. He whimpered in pain. Tony couldn’t help touching that swollen, puffy, rim all pink from hard use. That was how he wanted his toy to look at the end of every day.

His doll was sensitive, he shivered as Tony dragged his fingers over his chest. He mewled as he saw Tony come around to his head.

“What do you want, doll? You want more cock?”

Peter only whined, still fighting, always resisting. Would he be this beautiful when he broke?

“I’m going to fuck this hole,” Tony said, tracing Peter’s dry lips. “Gonna stuff my cock right down into your throat.”

He took himself out of his pants and damn he was harder than he’d ever been. Peter whined again as that thick cock rested on his face, hard and hot and heavy. He didn’t move, just stared up at Tony. He couldn’t help the way he grinned. His toy was being so good. Going so long being stuffed at both ends only to take the cock from his lips, it must have left him feeling empty and now he wanted it. He’d have to try keeping Peter’s holes filled is it would keep him compliant.

Peter’s mouth was so hot and wet that he almost came just slipping the head inside. And when the boy whined in fear as Tony’s cock nudged the back of his throat it was a close fucking call. He paused to reach up and toy with the boy’s cock, keeping him hard, as he regained control of himself. Then he was finally able to give his toy the face fucking he deserved, forcing his way into his throat. His gagging, choking, and mewling making it harder to hold back. It wasn’t long at all before he was coming a massive load into Peter’s mouth, making sure he tasted it before he could swallow it down, before the rest oozed past his lips and ended up on his face. He looked so beautiful that Tony wished he could cum twice.

“Good doll,” he praised. He stroked Peter’s sweaty face. “You did so good today, my toy.” He unhooked the gag and pulled it free. Peter whined at the ache in his jaw and it took some effort before he could close his mouth without wincing.

Tony unhooked him from the table and found that his boy was perfectly docile. He didn’t fight, didn’t run for the door, didn’t cry or beg. He sat on the edge of the table where Tony put him and calmly looked up at his master. His face was flushed either from exertion or arousal. It was hard to tell since his cock was hard against his belly. Gorgeous, flawless, Tony’s cock was making a valiant attempt at getting hard again.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. What do you say, doll?”

Peter’s voice was rough. “Yes, master.”


	8. Chapter 8

The warm water felt good on his sweaty skin. Even Tony’s hands felt good as he scrubbed him clean. Peter’s mind was a confused and muddled mess. He felt horny, but also used and dirty. He felt tired, but excited. He felt afraid, but touch starved. Those machines Tony used to punish him had fucked him without the emotion of a human partner and it left him feeling needy, despite everything. He wanted a real cock, he wanted a warm hand. He couldn’t help that he only grew harder the more Tony praised him for taking his punishment, the more he teased him. 

Mostly, he was just washing away lube, sweat, and cum from Peter’s skin. But he also kept sneaking a hand around his cock, quick and fast, but enough to make him moan. Or he’d pinch a nipple just enough to make him whine before moving on. He was right all along, Peter was his toy, his body was his playground. He didn’t have it in him to fight. He didn’t want to. He wanted to beg his master to fuck him until he came and it was taking all his strength to fight that one impulse alone. He was putty to everything else.

Tony shaved his legs again when they were done. The sensitivity threatened to actually drive him insane when Tony touched his bare skin. He dressed him up like a doll again, soft blue sweater and a pleated white skirt. He let Tony lead him by the hand back out into his prison. His cock was still fucking hard under that skirt. It looked obscene, the way it bobbed under the fabric as he walked. Tony sat him down in the chair and went to his toy box of terrible things.

He came back with an armful. Then he patted the table and told Peter to climb up. He climbed onto the table and laid down on his back.

“You’ve been so good today, doll,” Tony purred. Peter’s stomach twisted. He wanted to be good for Tony, but he knew he shouldn’t. It was terrifying. “I think I can forgive your little misbehavior. We’ve learned our lesson haven’t we?”

“Yes, master,” Peter whispered. He bit his lip, turned his head away. It was unbearable. Why couldn’t he just go home?

“It’s alright, sweetheart, don’t cry,” Tony soothed. He took Peter’s hand and kissed it. Why did it make his stomach flutter? “I’m not mad anymore. You’re okay. No more punishment for today. Does that sound good?”

Peter nodded his head. He looked up at Tony and his handsome face which had taken on a friendly smile.

“That’s a good boy.” He flipped up Peter’s skirt. His hands twitched to cover himself, but that’s not what his hands were for. He thought he felt his ass ache for a moment.

He moaned, back arching up from the table, eyes squeezing shut. Tony’s hand had wrapped around his cock and he was pumping it, not too fast, but just enough. He sounded pathetic, needy, and he couldn’t help it.

“That’s it, doll. Let me see you cum.”

Tears pooled in his eyes then fell down his cheeks. He screamed, only to grit his teeth as he came way too hard, way too fast.

“Good boy,” Tony cooed. “That’s it.” He hands stroked Peter’s thighs as he settled. He whined, he was so tired. Mentally and physically.

“We’re almost done, little one. Let me take care of you.”

Peter relaxed into the table and let Tony have him. He whined when he felt something push into his sore ass, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even move when Tony handled his cock, only whining as he touched it with something cold. He whimpered, finally looking up as Tony pushed something hard inside, into his urethra.

“Does that hurt, doll?”

Peter whined, but he shook his head. It wasn’t painful, just strange. He looked at the metal contraption, a cock cage. Tony snapped a little lock into place and that was it. He wouldn’t be able to get hard or even take a piss without Tony’s assistance. He whined and laid back down on the table. It was done, nothing he could do about it now.

“That’s a good boy,” said his master. He walked around to stand next to Peter’s head. He pet his cheek and Peter’s eyes fell shut at the comfort of his touch. “One last thing.”

Peter opened his eyes and blushed. Black leather straps and a little pink dildo. It was some kind of gag meant to fill ones mouth with cock. He didn’t want it, but still he let Tony push the silicon past his lips and strap it into place. Though, he realized, he could easily take it off once he was left alone. But he wasn’t sure if it was worth the punishment he would face if he were caught. The thing was a lot more comfortable than the ring gag and it only choked him if he turned his head a certain way.

“My beautiful, doll,” Tony smiled at him. He kissed Peter’s forehead and he was glad the gag covered his face so Tony couldn’t see his lips try to twitch up into a smile. “Crawl back into your cage, doll. I’ll see you for dinner.”

Peter slipped down from the table. The plug in his ass rubbed as he crawled and he felt his cock pressing against the metal cage by the time he laid down. Tony closed the cage door and locked it. It was strange, but Peter felt comfortable, snug and safe. He fell asleep before Tony had even left the basement.

He woke up to a growling stomach and the oddly pleasant feeling of being filled. He panicked for a minute to find something in his mouth, but he calmed as he reached up to touch the gag. He noticed the smell of chicken and realized it must have been what woke up. Rubbing his tired eyes, he spotted Tony at the table, already seated and eating dinner. The man smiled at him.

“There you are. I thought you’d sleep through the night. Come on and eat, doll,” he said.

Peter pushed open the door of cage, already unlocked. The plug in his ass had gone dry and it rubbed uncomfortably as he crawled to Tony’s side. He leaned against Tony’s leg, kneeling beside the chair. Peter blushed when he realized how unconsciously he’d done so, but Tony was happily petting his hair so he didn’t dare move until Tony nudged his head forward to take off the gag.

Peter licked his lips, but his tongue was too dry to do any good. He was grateful when Tony lowered a cup with a straw to his level and he slurped down the water in the glass without complaint.

“Thank you, master,” Peter said as Tony took the cup away.

Tony fed him little bites of chicken by hand then spoon fed him mashed potatoes. Peter swore it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Or maybe it was just that every time he looked up at Tony he got an adoring smile and every time Tony fed him a bite he’d gently stroke his cheek. He felt treasured, precious. It made his head foggy and his skin tingly. He didn’t even complain when Tony pushed two fingers into his mouth, just because. He sucked on the digets in his mouth and watched Tony’s expression darken with lust.

“How would you like to go to bed with me tonight, doll?”

Peter nodded his head. “Yes, sir.” Sleep with Tony? In a bed? He would be very very good if it meant he could sleep in a bed. His cage wasn’t the worst, but it certainly wasn’t a bed.

“Good boy. Let’s get you upstairs.” Tony grabbed the tray from dinner and lead the way up with Peter following slowly behind.

The stairs creeked under his feet and each one seemed so far. His legs weren’t as strong as they used to be, but neither was he eager to meet that door again.

It didn’t hurt Tony as he touched it. He must have deactivated the trap knowing Peter would be good now. The door opened and Peter saw the inside of Tony’s house.

He saw sleek modern appliances fitted into wooden cabinetry in a way that was both luxury and country. The living room was similar with a big paper flat tv screen paired with plush seating and wooden tables. It was all so cozy and so like paradise compared to the basement. All of the windows were covered with heavy black curtains giving the illusion that there simply was no outside.

The bedroom was down a hallway from the living room. The bed was huge and there wasn’t much more besides a dresser and a mirror. Peter stood just inside the door unsure if he was really allowed to sleep here. He was tired even after his nap and that bed looked all too inviting.

Tony sat down on the bed. He took off his shoes and shirt. Then he stepped down to change into sweat pants. Peter looked at the muscle on his body. He was far from a body builder, the muscle tone was on the softer side, but it was attractive. He imagined it was muscle came from labor more than exercise and he wondered what Tony did during the day when he wasn’t with Peter.

He flinched when Tony caught his attention. “Let’s get you changed, doll.”

Peter nodded and shyly stepped up beside him. Tony opened a drawer and inside were clothes that were clearly intended for him. They were softer in color and fabric. As if Peter were truly some delicate toy. He blushed at the thought, embarrassed to be treated this way, but what could he do? If he argued that he was a grown man and not the living doll Tony treated him as would kind of punishment would it get him?

He let Tony take off his clothes for him, feeling childish. He carefully pulled the plug from his ass, catching him when he mewled and almost toppled over. He pulled a small key from his pocket and then the cage came off as well. Tony massaged him until he was half hard and the lines left by the metal were gone. Then he dressed him again in a soft, oversized, shirt and some tiny cotton shorts. He hated how much he liked it, how comfortable he felt. It wasn’t an outfit he ever would have chosen for himself, much like everything else Tony put him in.

“Kneel here on the floor, pet,” he said. Peter knelt between his legs and turned when Tony gestured. He shivered at the swipe of a comb through his hair. It took a while for him to get out all of the knots, but Peter felt better when it was done. He felt warm with that feeling of being cared for that Tony occasionally gave him.

Then Tony took his hand and lead him into the bathroom. He thought for a moment the man would insist on brushing his teeth for him as he pulled out two tooth brushes from a drawer, but he only put the toothpaste on it for him and handed it over.

They both brushed their teeth, Tony smiling at him encouragingly like he was a child. Peter loved the relief of cleaning several day’s worth of gunk from his teeth. Tony finished up before him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Finish brushing and use the toilet if you need to. I’ll wait in the bedroom.” He kissed the top of Peter’s head and then slipped out.

Peter stared at himself in the mirror. He’d lost a little fat from his face, just enough to notice it was gone. His eyes were dark and his hair wasn’t as shiny as it used to be. At least Tony was making clear now that if he behaved he could have little self care things like tooth brushes and hair brushes and things you don’t realize are crucial to feeling healthy until you don’t have them. Maybe he’d go home again. Maybe everyone really thought he was dead. But maybe this wasn’t the absolute worst thing that could have happened to him. Tony could have left him dirty and underfed in the basement and used him until it killed him. He could almost believe that Tony cared about him as he lightly scrubbed away plaque from his gum line wearing the softest clothes he’d ever touched.

He finished up and then looked again at the mirror. Now he wondered what price he would pay for this. Tony would want sex wouldn’t he? But letting him have it, being good, that had to be less painful and scary than fighting. He winced as he remembered before… with the toilet. He’d do anything to avoid that again.

He stepped back into the bedroom. Tony was laying in the bed on top of the covers. He smiled at him. “Come on, doll. Let’s get some sleep. You must be tired.”

Peter nodded, crawling hesitantly up onto the bed. He wasn’t scared now, but would it scare him when Tony tried to take his clothes off? Would he think about drowning? Or when Tony tied him up and fucked his face?

Tony pulled back the covers and slid under, pulling Peter down with him. He tucked Peter against his chest. Peter was stiff with surprise at being cuddled, but he settled after a moment, relaxing into Tony’s arms. He fell asleep quickly.

Peter woke slowly, dreaming about warm and wet and good between his legs. He tensed as he realized why.

“No, Mr. Stark,” he whined. “Please.” He reached down to push him away, but the head between his legs didn’t budge. A hot wet tongue probed and slurped at his hole. Peter covered his face in embarrassment.

“Please, master,” he whimpered.

Tony lifted his head to speak. “Hush, doll. Be good.”

Peter mewled as that tongue touched his hole again. He shivered, couldn’t help it when he moaned. It felt so good. He was spreading his legs for more despite the way his lips said, “no, please,” once again.

“Gotta get you good and wet, baby. So I can fuck you.”

Peter whined again, still hiding behind his hands. It was so uncomfortable having someone right there, a place he rarely touched. He wasn’t sure he was whining more from discomfort or pleasure, but it felt undeniably good. His cock was starting to fill out. His lips were wet with spit as he licked away the dryness from his panting.

Tony pushed a finger into him, licking around it. Peter mewled, hips canting up. His cock was hard now, throbbing, as if his body were craving being filled. Peter knew he should feel sick, violated, but he didn’t. He felt good, like a good doll. Like he wanted to be Tony’s good doll. He shoved away any and all thoughts, it was making him dizzy to try to puzzle it out. He let himself feel, let his hands reach down to lightly grasp Tony’s hair, to encourage his mouth, licking, sucking, probing his hole.

Another finger pushed in and it burned for only a second. He moaned and sighed and finally he whined, “Master, please,” in a small needy tone.

Tony looked at him, smiling, eyes dark and lips shining. “Do you need my cock, little one?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. He got a light slap to his cheek and he whined, but he didn’t open his eyes Tony slapped him harder.

“Please, master,” he whimpered. He blinked his eyes up at Tony. He hovered over him now, blocking the light coming in from the window.

“Beg for my cock,” Tony said. His tone came with an edge that said he’d be in trouble if he didn’t obey.

‘Fuck doll mouths’, Peter thought. “Please, master, please fuck me. I want your cock, please.”

It was jarring the way Tony surged forward, grabbing a fist full of his sleep messed hair and kissing his open mouth. His body responded, hands pulling him in, legs bending to press his thighs into Tony’s sides and bring him closer. He could feel how hard and how huge he was against his hip.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut again as Tony moved, but he only reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand. It made a wet, goopy, sound as he used it to slick his cock.

“Look at me, doll,” Tony said. Peter blinked his eyes open. Tony was kneeling between his legs, bent and pushed back toward his chest, staring down at him. Then he lined up his cock with Peter’s hole and slowly pushed the head inside.

His whined. It felt good. Then he pushed in more and more and Peter whined that it was too much, losing his breath, but Tony kept going. Tony’s hands squeezed bruises into his skin and fucked him, moving slowly at first, drawing low whines from Peter’s lips. The feeling made his cock throb and leak each time he was filled.

After a while, the man seemed to lose restraint. He starting moving faster, stealing Peter’s breath. It was too much for his body to take, yet all he could do was lay there, eyes closed and whining for his master. Tony slapped his face and whimpered, looking up at him.

“Look at me,” he growled.

“Yes, master,” Peter whined.

Tony buried himself in deep, holding Peter to him as he came. He pulled out slowly, holding Peter’s legs open and looking at his abused hole. Peter tried not squirm as he stared. Then Tony picked up the plug and carefully stuffed it inside.

“Please, master,” Peter whispered. “Can I cum, too?”

Tony touched his cheek. His expression was fond, affectionate. “You did so good for me, doll.” A hand stroked his hard and hot cock and he moaned. “Not yet, though. I want you good and desperate for me later. Now be good and lay still,” he said. Then he slipped from the room.

When he came back, Peter realized that he’d never even thought of moving. He should have been trying to climb out of the window. Especially when Tony took the ice he had in his hand and let it drip over Peter’s balls. He hissed and whined, but Tony pressed him down by his hip and kept him in place. His cock was soft in no time and after quickly drying him off, the cage was back on. Despite being soft, he was no less horny. He couldn’t do anything about it.

“Come on now, doll. Master has work to do,” he said and with that he was back in the basement. The upside was Tony left his cage unlocked.


	9. Chapter 9

Life almost felt good. When Peter didn't make the mistake of attacking Tony again, he was given permission to stay out of his cage as long as he behaved. He could use the bathroom whenever he pleased and Tony left him everything he needed from soap to toothpaste. He even put some clothes for Peter in the bathroom closet. The only problem was that there wasn't much to do. He hadn't done anything but eat, sleep, and be used by Tony for however long he'd been captive. He wasn't even sure what he might like to do. When Tony came down that night, Peter asked him for his help.

"Master?" Peter asked, hesitant and staring at the floor.

Tony caught his chin and raised it until he looked him in the eye. "What is it, doll?"

"I was wondering... well, I'm very grateful you let me out of my cage, sir. Thank you."

"You've been a good doll. You deserve it," Tony said.

"Is there anything I could do while you're gone? I was... a little bored today." He turned his eyes down again, but Tony didn't speak until he looked up.

"Of course, doll. I'd love to give you something to do. Let's finish dinner and then I'll get you set up."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, master."

They ate their meals, Tony feeding Peter his while he knelt on the floor. Then Tony went to his box. He came back with a thick, wiggly, dildo, and set it on the table.

"Not tonight, because you're belly's all full, but tomorrow you can start practicing. I want you to be able to deep throat master's cock. Do you think you can practice for me?"

Peter nodded. It wouldn't be fun, but it would be better than staring at the wall. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy," Tony smiled. "I'll test your progress before dinner tomorrow and you can keep working until you get it right. Sound good?"

"Yes, sir."

Tony caught his face in his hands and kissed his forehead. "That's my doll. Let's get you cleaned up before bed."

They got into the shower together. Peter felt a lot more comfortable letting Tony wash him than he had in the past. He was even hard by the time he was done running his hands all over him. It was a little embarrassing to have his hard on sticking up while Tony shaved his legs, but his master only smiled and gave the tip a little kiss as he washed away the shaving cream from his skin.

Once he was fully clean, Tony put him back in his cock cage. The cold air of the bathroom deflated him, making it easier. Then he dressed him in cozy pale purple pajamas.

"You've been such a good boy since your punishment," Tony comment once he was dressed. "I'll think we'll make a habit of keeping you in check before you get out of hand. I think that'll keep you from acting out, don't you?"

"Yes, master," Peter said, despite that it sounded very unpleasant.

"Finish up in the bathroom and then we'll put in your plug before you kiss master goodnight." Tony winked, then he was left alone to finish up.

Peter brushed his teeth musing about what Tony might do to keep him in check. He didn't like the sound of that, but maybe it would be good for him. He didn't want to upset Tony again and end up being drowned.

He left the bathroom and there was Tony. He smiled and Peter went up to him without thinking about it. He melted when Tony pulled him in for a kiss. He moaned around his master's tongue. A hand squeezed his ass. Peter squeaked, jumping as the plug touched his hole. Tony chuckled and pulled him closer, pressing it inside. Peter moaned when it was in. It sat, cruely teasing just shy of his prostate.

"My good doll," Tony said. "Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, master," Peter answered. Then the gag was in his mouth. Feeling good and full he crawled into his cage and went to sleep as Tony went upstairs.

The next day was a little less boring. Peter alternated sessions with the dildo with pacing the floor. Tony came down to feed him breakfast and take out the gag, but he kept the plug in his ass leaving him horny all day despite being unable to get hard or do anything about it.

The dildo was long and thick, but not impossibly so. Still, being unpracticed, Peter could take about a third of it before he gagged. He spent some time stuffing it into his mouth and letting it gag him until he couldn't take it. Then he would pace around the room again. At least he was getting his exercise, he thought.

Tony didn't come down for lunch today. He didn't always. It was so lonely without him. Peter knew he was sick, that being locked in the basement had fucked him up, but he couldn't stop thinking about how proud Tony would be when he could finally take his whole cock. He tried again with the dildo, giving a filthy, sloppy, blowjob and choking himself until he wretched. Then he'd go clean himself up and go back to pacing.

When Tony finally came down for dinner, Peter was so excited that he could have hugged him. Tony grinned to him standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Happy to see me, doll?"

Peter nodded, cheeks heating up. "Yes, sir." His body warmed when Tony stopped to kiss him. Then he set the tray down on the table.

"I hope you're ready to sing for your supper, doll." He sat down in the chair. As his legs fell open, Peter saw the giant bulge in his pants. He wasn't wearing underwear so his hard cock rested against his thigh. Peter quickly knelt on the floor, eager to show him how grateful he was to be free of his cage.

"Let's see what you can do, baby."

Peter pulled Tony's pants down as the man lifted his hips. His cock sprang out, hard and thick. Peter licked his lips. Then he got his mouth around it. Too eager, he choked right away getting a disappointed click from Tony.

"Don't tell me that's all I let you out of your cage for."

Peter tried again, this time staying in control of himself. He managed to take Tony half way down and hold himself there long enough to make Tony sigh. Then he got to work really blowing him making it just as sloppy as he'd practiced. He found that more spit meant it was easier to get it in deeper, so he drooled and made a mess of himself as he tried to deep throat as much as he could. Tony was moaning, holding the back of his head so he assumed he was doing well. He kept going, sucking, bobbing, slurping, taking him deep until he choked. It took some work, but after a while Tony grunted, then he was holding Peter by the hair and jacking off onto his tongue.

"Swallow it, fuck doll."

Peter swallowed, face burning. He didn't know how it was still so embarrassing, but he blushed all the same.

Tony swiped some cum from his bottom lip and Peter licked it up. "That was very good, baby. I expect even better next time. Keep practicing."

"Yes, master," Peter happily agreed. He was even happier as Tony fed him his dinner.

They shared their usual nightly routine, then it was off to bed. Not bad for a day in captivity. He could almost get used to it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: New warning this chapter- ass to mouth <3

Things stayed the same for a few days. Peter practiced with the toy and spent some time pacing the floor. He got bored enough that he started to throw in some time working out. Nothing too intense, Tony didn't feed him enough for him to push himself too hard, but he worked out until his muscles felt pleasant and warm. It was something else to do at least.

He looked forward to Tony's visits. In fact, it was all he thought about. He listened for footsteps through the floor and his heart leaped with excitement whenever the sound came close to the stairs. He often had to contain himself when he heard the door open. He wanted nothing more than to run to Tony and throw himself at his feet. He often sat and thought about Tony, feeling guilty for his little fantasies whenever he remembered where he was.

Sometime he imagined how proud Tony would be when he could deep throat him without gagging. Sometimes he found himself blushing, thinking about Tony kissing him. He didn't do it often, but he could almost pretend they were lovers when he did.

He was excited the next time Tony came to play with him. Too excited. He had to bite his lip to keep in a smile. He was so bored. He'd do anything. Tony look down at him as he knelt on the floor. The smirk on his face was as if he knew.

"Stand up, doll. Get up on the table."

Peter rose and climbed up onto his hands and knees. Tony's hands on his thighs made his skin tingle. He reached between his legs and unlocked his cage. It was a relief when it came off, no longer weighing him down.

Tony's hand spread his ass open. He spit and Peter felt wet splatter just above his hole. A finger ran through the spit and pushed inside.

"What do you think, doll? Can you get hard from having your hole playing with?"

"Yes, master," Peter said, too quickly.

"Oh really?" Tony chuckled.

"I'll try, master," Peter corrected.

"I like your enthusiasm, doll. I believe in you, too. You're my toy after all right?"

"Yes, master."

Tony took out his finger and spit again. He pressed in two fingers now. It burned a bit at first as his hole stretched. Tony crooked his fingers and touched just the right spot. Peter moaned, bending lower to the table on reflex.

Tony slapped his ass. "Slutty little thing. We'll make a cock slut out of you for sure."

He couldn't think clearly with Tony doing that. He kept rubbing his prostate, forcing the most pitiful sounds out of him. With only spit, it was nearly dry and it burned, but damn if it wasn't better than the boredom.

"Are you my fuck doll?" Tony asked.

"Yes, sir," Peter panted, face pressed against the table, ass high in the air.

"Are you a cock slut whore?"

"Yes, master," he agreed. He'd be anything that meant he had Tony's attention.

"Do you like it when your master plays with your cock hole?"

"Yes, master."

Tony slapped his ass and he moaned. Tony laughed. Peter's face burned with shame. His cock twitched. He was getting hard.

"Let's try something bigger."

Tony pulled his fingers out. There was that box on its table in the corner. Peter had peeked at it once, but Tony kept it locked. Out of it now came the dildo he'd stuffed in Peter's mouth before and a bottle of lube. He heard the sticky wet sound as Tony slicked the toy up. Then it's thick head was pressed against his hole. He sucked in a breath, letting it out as the toy pressed in deep. He whined as it filled him. It rubbed against skin that was irritated from the dry rubbing.

"Oh look at that," Tony purred. His hand wrapped around Peter's cock. His hips jerked unconsciously. He was hard now and sensitive. "That's my doll."

"Master..." he gasped, cheeks burning. He wanted Tony inside him and it filled him with self loathing to even think it.

Tony fucked him slowly with the toy. Peter drooled against the table.

"Look at your little cock twitch," Tony mused. He held it with his fingers as if it were too small to take in his hand.

Peter's face burned. He wondered if the humiliation could kill him. He wasn't even tied up and he was just taking it. He should fight. He should argue. He shouldn't just comply. 

He was letting Tony play with him like a doll.

"Such a good little doll," Tony praised.

It felt good. It made him happy... to be a good doll.

"Fuck... gotta get my cock in there."

Tony took the toy out of him. Peter burned with excitement. He wanted Tony's cock.

"You're being so good today, my doll. I'm so proud of you." Tony pulled his hips down so his feet were on the floor, leaving his ass level with Tony's hips.

"Thank you, master," Peter smiled. Tony's cock filled him up perfectly. The sound he made was way too loud, way too honest. It felt so good. He squeezed around him and Tony's cock throbbed in response. He was so full, so warm. His own cock was so hard.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Tony groaned. "That's my doll. My good little toy."

Fingers twisted in his hair and pulled, holding on to him like a leash while Tony fucked him. He was so close. His cock rubbing against his sensitive insides had him moaning and whining and begging for more. It was awful and embarrassing and he didn't care. His master kept telling him he was good. His cock kept throbbing.

"Can you cum on my cock? You're leaking."

He wanted it so bad, but he wasn't sure if he could do it. He wanted to please his master. He wanted to be a good toy.

Tony pressed in closer, his back against Peter's chest. He loved feeling the heat of him, the softness of his skin. He loved being Tony's doll. Tony pressed a kiss into the side of his neck and he was done for. It was too much, he was too sensitive, he wanted to be good. He came, whining, crying out for his master.

Tony kept going, fucking him into a whimpering, shuddering against the table top.

"Master, please," he whimpered. His ass felt raw, nerves exposed. He kept fucking him as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Master- master," he panted.

"Cry for me, fuck doll," Tony said.

He couldn't do anything else, he was too sensitive. Tony touched his cock and he screamed. His thumb rubbed just under the head.  
"Please, master- it hurts! Please stop," he begged.

Tony chuckled. "You beg so pretty, doll." He kept going a while longer. Peter pulled in a shaking breath as he stopped. Tony pulled his cock from Peter's abused hole and let him drop against the table. He didn't give him time to recover.

"On your knees," he ordered. Peter slid obediently to the floor. "Suck me off."

Peter had Tony's cock in his mouth before he realized, that was his own ass he was tasting. He tried to pull back, but a hand caught his head and shoved him down.  
"That's right, doll. Be a good boy. How's that taste?" He was smirked, clearly pleased by Peter's disgust.

It wasn't the worst thing, it was just the thought of it. But he wasn't getting out of it either. Better to do as he was told. It was always better that way.

"Look at you. Dirty little slut."

All of his practice was clearly paying off. He could take all of Tony without gagging now. Listening to his master moan when he swallowed around his cock was enough for him to forget his reservations about it.

"Good boy," he moaned. "Good little cock sucker. Fuck, that's it. Make me cum."

Flushing with pride, Peter couldn't curb his enthusiasm. He looked up at Tony and his master's head was tossed back, eyes closed. He was enjoying himself, enjoying Peter's mouth, as he should. He was finally becoming the toy Tony wanted him to be.

He moaned at the taste of cum on his tongue. He held himself still catching it all without choking. He smiled when Tony pulled his cock from his mouth. Tony smiled back when he saw his mouth full of cum.

"Look at you, my doll," he purred. "Perfect little toy."

Peter swallowed. "Your toy, master." His head felt foggy and his eyes were a bit glazed. He leaned into the warmth of Tony's hand. Everything was calm and happy. Tony rewarded him with a kiss that made his toes curl before he disappeared back up stairs and left Peter to rest.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An: brace yourself, babes <3

Peter woke up to Tony standing over his cage, watching him sleep. He blinked his eyes open and smiled at his master. "Goodmorning," he yawned as he rubbed one sleepy eye.

"Good morning, doll," Tony said. His tone made Peter curious and afraid. He seemed so sinister.

He looked around and realized that the lights were dimmer and the room was warmer. There was a glow behind the table which was pulled forward a bit to make room for something.

Peter crawled out of his cage and Tony gestured for him to remain kneeling. "I've decided that I know exactly what will remind you that you are mine. My fuck doll and nothing more."

"But I know that, master! I promise I do and I-"

Tony slapped him and tears pooled in his eyes. "Quiet doll. Don't piss me off. You know that's not good for you."

"I'm sorry, sir," Peter whispered. He held his sore cheek. He tried not to think about the toilet.

"Climb up on the table. Quickly," he snapped.

Peter didn't think twice. He crawled to the table and up on top then he laid down on his back. It was warmer than usual. It was warmer in the basement than usual.

"Perfect." Tony tied him down, stretching his arms out and tying them down almost too tight until Peter couldn't move the slightest bit. "Open up, doll," he said and stuffed a gag into Peter's mouth. This one was like a horse's bit and it filled his mouth in such a way that he couldn't do anything but bite down. Nerves made him tremble. Tony was scary like this. Peter's breathing was way too fast and through his nose he thought he smelled fire. He thought he heard it crackle and pop.

"Be still now and let your master take care of you. You won't like this, but I don't think you'll forget to behave again either."

Peter shuddered at the sound of metal scraping. His eyes went wide and time seemed to freeze as Tony held up a piece of red hot metal. He pulled against the table, but no part of him could move. He was trapped. Tony put a hand on his belly. Then he pressed the hot metal to his skin.

The branding iron sizzled against his skin. There was a millisecond where his brain didn't catch up to his body, then he was screaming and all he knew was pain. Tears streamed down his face, his throat tore, he couldn't breathe. Adrenaline must have kicked in because his vision went white and suddenly he felt nothing. When Tony took the metal away, Peter's sight returned only to feel the agony of air touching his ruined skin. Lifting his head he saw that the skin just below his belly button, and a little to the left, was raised and red. It was blurry for a moment. Then he passed out.

The first thing Peter noticed upon waking was pain. It dragged a moan out of him faster than his eyes could even open. When he did manage to see through the ache in his belly, he realized he was upstairs in Tony's bed. He was dressed in only a lot cut pair of boyshorts, presumably to keep pressure off of the wound. There was a bandage over the skin. What had Tony branded him with and why? Why do something so awful? Tears stung his eyes again. Even now, it hurt so unbelievably bad.

Sitting up made it worse. He had to push most of his weight up with his arms since clenching his abs hurt too much. He climbed out of bed and went to the mirror on the wall. Then he pealed off the bandage.

STARK

He whimpered. His skin was marked, permanently, with Tony's name, written in his signature. As if he owned him. His property. His doll. Shame struck him as surely as arousal. It wasn't fair. It was disgusting. He was never going to leave this place. His eyes moved away from the mark and Peter realized he'd missed something else in all his pain. A collar.

It was metal, shiny silver. The inside was padded with something soft, but there was something else. He squeezed his finger in between the collar and his neck and found four metal pegs inside that the padding didn't touch. Was it meant to shock him? As if he didn't have enough suffering.

It was too much and he was already exhausted from the pain. He went back to the bed and laid down. He was asleep again before he could get under the blankets.

The next time he woke it was to gentle hands touching his belly. He opened his eyes to find Tony rubbing something cool on his burn.

"Master?" he mumbled.

Tony looked up and gave him a small smile. "How are you feeling, doll?"

"Doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's good. I'm glad."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Topical anesthetic and some aloe. To help you heal. I gave you some morphine while you were sleeping. Between all of that, you shouldn't feel it now. I'm sorry I had to hurt you, my doll." He touched Peter's cheek with a hand that was clean.

"It's okay, master," Peter said. Was it okay? He didn't feel angry. Maybe he was a little afraid of being hurt like that again, but he didn't feel angry at all. He knew he should have been. What was happening to his mind? He couldn't help a small sob of fear.

Tony hushed him. "It's alright, little doll. I won't do it again. I just need you to know that you're mine and this is where you belong. You won't forget it now will you?"

Peter shook his head. "No, sir." He remembered the collar and reached up to find that it was still there. "What's this for, master?"

"I want you to stay upstairs until you're healed. I might let you up more often after that as well. It all depends on how much I can trust you. I don't want you to get sick down there." Tony pulled off a glove from his right hand, all gooey with gel. Then he took a large bandage and carefully placed it over Peter's burn.

"What does it do?"

Tony smoothed down the bandage. "If you try to leave the house the collar will shock you. If you don't come back right away, it will make you pass out. So don't go trying to run off, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." Tony smiled. "Are you hungry?"

Peter nodded. His stomach ached now that he was thinking about it.

"Come here, little doll."

Peter blushed as he was scooped up and cradled in Tony's arms. He felt so warm. Not safe, no. Nothing about Tony meant safety, but there was something about being close to him that was comforting.

Stockholm syndrome, he thought. They were starting to bond. The thought had Peter clawing at the walls of his own mind to let him out and back to where it was sane. Just as Tony had let him out of his cage, his mind had built a cage if its own. One where Peter was dependent on his captor.

Tony set him down on a couch that was a little stiff. The pillows behind him made it more comfortable as he leaned back.

"Stay here, I'll grab our breakfast."

Peter looked around as Tony left. The living room was somewhat bare. There were no photos, no art on the walls. There was a tv and a bookshelf, but both the remote and books were dusty as if Tony never touched them. He'd certainly never heard a tv running from the basement. He wondered if Tony would allow him to read while he was upstairs. Oh, he would be the best doll ever if Tony would allow him to busy his mind for a while. He missed work.

Tony came back with a plate of scrambled eggs and a bowl of fruit. They were quiet as Tony alternated feeding Peter and feeding himself. It was so calm. Peter could almost pretend that he wanted to be there. That he'd willingly taken a trip with his boss to spend some very work inappropriate time together. Hadn't Mr. Stark been engaged, though?

Peter wasn't sure how long he'd been held captive. It seemed like he should be getting married soon, but maybe it hadn't been very much time at all. What would happen then? The view out the window was all woods. They could be anywhere. Did Tony spend his days back at the office? Or were they too far away. Peter's stomach knotted as he wondered what would happen if Tony simply forgot him. Would he die, trapped in this house? No one would come looking for him.

"Peter?"

How many times had Tony called out to him? His face said he's been trying to get his attention for a while. Plus, that was the first time he'd used his name in weeks. Had it been weeks?

"Yes, sir?" He was trembling, voice cracking.

"Are you in pain, doll? What's wrong?" His touched Peter's cheek, pushing back curls that could use a trim.

"No, master. I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me."

He shivered. His tone left no room for argument. Voice small, he said, "I was worried you might leave and forget about me."

"Oh, my doll." Tony set down the plate of food. His hands cupped Peter's face. "I won't abandon you, dear. You can always count on me."

His heart fluttered. His mind said that he was safe, he would be fine, but another part of him argued.

"What about Ms. Potts?"

"Don't worry about her." His thumbs stroked Peter's cheeks. "I don't."

His hands were so warm. Did Tony mean to say that he wouldn't marry her? Or perhaps that it didn't matter to him if he did? The way he held Peter as he said so, as if he did matter. His stomach felt sick, but his heart was pounding. Had he been jealous of Pepper? Was that before or after the kidnapping?  
"You're mine, little doll. All you need to worry about is me." His thumb rubbed over Peter's bottom lip. He let his mouth fall open, let Tony toy with his parted lips. He felt dizzy when Tony's fingers slipped into his mouth. Peter sucked on them while they moved in and out. Then Tony stuck them down his throat, chuckling when he gagged.

Peter's cheeks heated. He was hard already.

Tony picked up the plate and continued to feed them both, but he entertained himself with Peter's body. He pinched and pulled his nipples, rubbed his cock through his shorts, trailed his fingers over his skin and gave him goosebumps. Peter was whimpering and squirming by the time they were done.  
Tony went to the kitchen and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. "I have to get some work done," he said as he came back. "Let's find something for you to do while I'm busy."

Peter eyed the bookshelf. "Could I read a book?"

Tony chuckled. "No, little doll. There are more useful things for a doll to do. All of you belongs to master, right?"

Peter blushed, nodding. How he did manage to make him feel embarrassed for wanting to read?

"Master wants his doll to be a drooling cock slut, not a nerd. No books for you." Tony looked around. "Take this instead."

He handed Peter a pillow. Peter held it between his hands. "What should I do with it master?"

"Down on the floor. Get it between your legs. Good boy," he said as Peter followed his orders. He set the pillow on the floor and straddled it. "Now I want to see you humping. Build up those cock riding muscles for me." Peter was blushing again. He looked back at the books. This was better. This made Tony happy, made him a better doll.

Tony grabbed his laptop and sat down on the couch. "Come closer, doll."

Peter scooted forward until his knees were against the couch and Tony could reach him with one hand. He stroked his hair for a moment then went to typing.

"Get to work, fuck toy."

Peter shivered. Then he started humping. It felt good. After being teased so much, he was really hard. His ass ached as if it wanted to be filled and Peter was embarrassed by it. He'd never felt so slutty before. His mind seemed to go blank and he didn't know how long he'd been going, slowly grinding his hips against the pillow, before Tony spoke.

"Play with your nipples, doll."

Peter slid his hands up his chest and found both nipples. He alternated light touches and some pinching as he continued to ride the pillow.

"Master? I need to cum," Peter whined.

"No, doll. Not while master's working. Just be slutty for me."

He whined again, but he didn't say anything else. He cock was dripping in his shorts, sticking to the damp material. He was breathing heavily enough to make himself dizzy and he didn't even care. Everything was pain and pleasure and his master. He moaned when Tony reached down and stuck his fingers in Peter's mouth, idly fucking his mouth.

Peter was so hard. He needed to cum so badly. More than that, he needed to please his master. He had to be a good boy.

Tony pulled his hand away. He snapped his fingers and Peter stopped, blinking up at him as his eyes tried to focus. He licked his dry lips and realized his mouth had been hanging open and his chin was went.

"Lose the pillow. Get up on the couch."

Peter immediately obeyed. He knelt beside Tony on the couch patiently waiting for more orders.  
"Take my cock out and put it in your mouth."

He popped open the button of his jeans and tugged open the zipper. With some help from Tony, he got his cock in his hand. He was hard, little bit of pre on the tip just from watching Peter. He felt proud. He took Tony into his mouth but before he could do anything else, Tony stopped him.

"Stay on it while I finish up work," he said.

Peter arranged himself to lay on his belly with his head in Tony's lap. He took just enough of his cock in his mouth that he could still breath, then he lay still.

"Such a perfect toy."

Peter squirmed every now and then, his body aching with need. He whimpered when his cock throbbed every now and then. He knew better than to touch his own cock. That's not what his hands were for.  
He laid patient and as still as he could with his master's cock in his mouth until Tony was finished. Then the laptop was set aside and Tony's hand slid down his back to touch his ass. He hadn't told Peter to stop, so he laid still with Tony's cock still in his mouth, smooth against his tongue.

Peter jumped when Tony slapped his ass. He choked on the cock in his mouth. Still, he hadn't been told to move or to stop, so took a slow breath through his nose and calmed himself.

"That's a good doll," his master praised.

He slapped his ass again and little teasing slaps turned into a hard spanking that had Peter whimpering around the cock in his mouth. His cock throbbed even as his ass stung and ached. He knew he was moaning like a slut and it made him happy because it was what his master wanted.

Tony gripped the back of his shorts and pulled them up so they rode up his ass, uncomfortably tight and exposing his ass cheeks. Master could spank him harder now without the soft shorts in the way. Somewhere through all the pain, Peter felt like he was in a trance. He only thought about keeping Tony's cock in his mouth and being still while Tony played with him. His cock ached and throbbed against the couch and he didn't care.

Eventually the spanking stopped. Tony rubbed his ass and the stinging died down leaving a warm sorness. He pulled Peter up from his cock. "Ride me," he ordered.

Lips swollen and spitty, eyes glassy, Peter sat up and climbed over Tony's lap. He pulled his shorts to the side and moaned as he sat straight down on his cock. A thick coating of spit, after who knows how long of keeping Tony's cock warm, was enough to slick the way. His sore ass pressed against Tony's thighs as he moved. His master let him do all the work, watching him with dark eyes.

Peter whimpered each time his ass touched Tony and moaned as he was filled. His own cock was soaked with precum and rubbing against Tony's stomach.

"Good boy," Tony purred. His hands clamped down on Peter's waist, holding him still. "Fuck, that's a good fleshlight." He groaned, cumming in Peter's ass. He moaned along with his master.

Peter whimpered, remembering his own need.

"You wanna cum?" Tony asked. Peter nodded his head.

"Get down on the floor." Peter, too quickly, got up and moved to where Tony pointed.

"I want to see you scooping my cum out of your ass and eating it while you stroke your cock."

"Yes, master." Peter nodded, already reaching behind himself to find his puffy, swollen, hole. Two fingers pressed in and pulled out still warm cum. He sucked it off his fingers as he stuffed a hand into his shorts. He tucked them down under his balls so his master could see.

"Such a pretty little doll. I can't wait to fuck you with my mark on your skin."

"Master," Peter whined, fingers reaching into his hole again.

"You can do better, doll. Keep going. Not yet."

Peter moaned around his fingers as he sucked them clean of cum.

"Did you get it all, sweetheart?"

Peter nodded, still sucking his fingers.

"Alright then, fuck doll. Let's see you cum."

Peter's mouth went slack. His fingers fell from his lips. He whined, too high a sound to really call it a moan, as he shot cum onto his own belly.

Tony reached out and pet his hair. "Good boy. So good for me, doll. Let's get you cleaned up."

They showered together. Tony washed him, of course, being careful of the bandage. Peter was used to sleeping a lot so he was drowsy after their shower. Tony took him back to the bedroom and tucked him in. He pressed a warm kiss to Peter's forehead that made his heart flutter. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

It was nice being allowed upstairs. Tony made a bed for him on the floor so that he slept at his feet. They got up and brushed their teeth together in the mornings then Tony made breakfast. Peter offered to cook once and Tony just chuckled and ruffled his hair. Peter had blushed at the implication that he was incapable, but when he found himself kneeling beside Tony's chair without being told he wondered if it wasn't true. Was he just a doll anymore? There was that feeling again in the back of his mind that something was very wrong with him, but it was such a tiny feeling that he didn't pay it any mind.

After breakfast Tony worked and Peter kept his cock warm and practiced deep throating a toy. Peter would nap after lunch and Tony would fuck him before dinner. Every day was much the same. It was a life Peter could be happy with. When a week had passed and Peter found himself back in the basement, he vowed to do anything to prove to Tony that he could be trusted to live upstairs with him.

It was cold and lonely in his cage. Sure, Tony had left it unlocked and even left Peter access to the bathroom, but still he curled up in his cage. Day one back in the basement was one of loneliness and depression.

Day two, Peter felt a little better. He spent the day practicing with his toy. Day three, Tony tasked him with cleaning the basement. He was to scrub the bathroom and sweep the floors. Peter spent the entire day making the shower tiles sparkle. He was pleased with his work when Tony shoved his face against the clean shower wall as he fucked him later that day.

He was determined that no matter what Tony did to him or asked him to do, he would be perfect and obedient. He was going to be the best doll he could possibly be.

On day four, Peter put his best foot forward. Tony came down the stairs and Peter crawled out of his cage. He knelt on the floor and smiled up at him.

"Good morning, master." He tried to sit so that his back was straight and his legs were parted so that Tony could see his cock in its cage. He put his hands by his sides so he could see the brand, mostly healed but still sensitive, on his hip.

Tony stopped and eyed him curiously. "Good morning, fuck doll."

Peter noticed that he hadn't brought him any food, but he didn't ask. He would eat when Tony wanted him to. Tony approached him and Peter didn't move because he wasn't told to. It was a shock when Tony kicked him.

Peter fell over with a groaning wheeze. He was just about to push himself up and pick a fight over it when he came back to himself. Good doll. Master's good doll.

He didn't move. He laid on his side in the floor. Tony's shoe pressed down on the side of Peter's face. He let him grind his face into the floor, whimpering, but never protesting. At least the floor was clean.

"I suppose you're trying to please me. That it?"

Peter's heart skipped. Was he angry? What did he do wrong? "Yes, sir."

Tony hummed thoughtfully. "Why?"

"I want to be a good doll for you, master."

Tony took his foot back. He crouched by Peter's head. "What do you get out of it?"

He thought a moment. "It feels good to please you," he said. Which was true. He had no other joy in his life anymore. He couldn't remember when he last dreamed of freedom.

Tony grabbed a fistful of his hair and twisted. Peter whined in pain. "Is that so? Nothing else?"

"I..." he tried to breathe through the pain, eyes watering. "I want to be good for you all the time." And most importantly, he hoped he could be allowed upstairs if he were good enough.

Tony released his hair and stood. This time he stepped down putting pressure against Peter's neck.  
"You want to prove you're a good little toy? I'd like that, doll. I'd like to know you won't disappoint me again."

Peter shuddered. The thought of trying to attack Tony, of trying to escape, it brought him nothing but pain. He didn't want that.

"I won't, master. I promise!" His throat hurt under the press of his foot. "I'll do anything."

Tony raised his foot and set it down on the floor. Peter could hear his own heart racing in his ears as he looked up. The look on his face, Peter didn't know what it meant.

"Leave," he said.

Peter's heart skipped a beat.

"Master?"

"Do I have to tell you twice?" His eyebrow raised.

Peter slowly got up from the floor. "I... I don't understand."

Tony leaned forward into Peter's face. "Get out of my house."

He shuddered, reeling back. "But..." Peter's mind scrambled. He was frozen in place. He couldn't leave. He couldn't. He didn't want to. He couldn't disobey. He couldn't upset his master. But he couldn't leave.

"Well?" Tony looked at him expectantly.

"But I... I can't live without you, master."

Tony snarled. He grabbed Peter's arm and twisted it behind his back using it to drag him up the stairs while he cried. His face was a mess of terrified tears and snot by the time they reached the door. Tony pulled it open and shoved Peter out onto the porch.

"Town is eight miles that way," he pointed off toward the forest, then he slammed the door shut.

Peter sobbed. His legs went out from under him. He felt the cold wood of the porch under his hands. For a while he was hysterical, sobbing, hiccuping unintelligible pleas. The sun was high by the time he'd calmed himself.

He looked off toward the woods and took a step forward. He didn't even make it off the porch before he was crying again. What was wrong with him? He was free. He could go home. He could go back to his life. He'd never ever tell anyone what Tony did to him for fear of what he'd do, but he could pretend it never happened. Pretend he escaped a human trafficker or something.

The thought of sitting at a computer working a normal job and having a normal life disturbed him. He belonged on his knees, at Tony's feet. He was a doll, a fuck doll, two holes and a cock for his master to play with. He didn't belong out there. He didn't want to belong. So he waited.

He sat down with his back to the wall. He was tired from crying. His heart felt broken. Exhausted, he fell asleep.

When he woke, it was dark out. The stars overhead were beautiful and he found himself drawn down the steps and into the yard to see them better. He marveled at the feeling of grass under his feet. After a while of staring, he sat down on the bottom step. He tucked his head between his knees as he started to feel the panic return. Tony had kicked him out. Tony didn't want him anymore. He was lost and all the stars in the sky couldn't help him.

He knew that he could walk down that road, find a police station or a fire station or almost anything and someone would help him. He still had his cock cage on and plug in, which was humiliating, but he'd figure it out. He could go home. He could tell his aunt he was alive. He might even be okay some day. But he would never see Tony again. He realized that his best option was to stay put and hope that Tony changed his mind. Maybe he would come outside tomorrow and Peter could beg him to stay.  
If he wouldn't, if Tony still refused to let him stay, he'd beg Tony to kill him.

His fingers traced the letters on his hip. The skin there was far more sensitive than it used to be. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Tony's tongue, tracing over the brand, telling him that he would belong to him forever, always his doll. He remembered fighting, resisting, believing he would get out some day. It was funny to him now. Why would he want to leave the basement when Tony was there? Tony was his everything. His heart leaped at just the thought of seeing him again. Even the thought of dying by his hand, of Tony's face being the last thing he ever saw, excited him.

"Tony," he whispered to the air. He imagined that his breath could summon him.

"Master," he said. His master. The one who owned him. The one he belonged to. He laid his head against the railing and dreamed of quiet days as his master's cock warmer.

He woke up in his cage. He was groggy. It was the familiar feeling that Peter had started to believe meant Tony had drugged him. Eyes still blurry with sleep, he laughed. He was back in the basement. He knew the warm padding of his cage, the slightly damp, not yet moldy smell, the gentle hum of the hot water heater.

"Master?" He rubbed his eyes and sat up. Well, really he sat hunched over.

It was like a fairytale. His basement had been transformed.

There was a large fourposter bed with hanging red curtains. They were thin and lacy and beautiful. The dinning table had been moved over, but the chairs had new red cushions that matched the bedding. At the far wall was a padded bench and some sort of bondage device that would likely keep him trapped in a kneeling position. There was a mini fridge next to the bathroom door. There was even a bookshelf against one wall and a tv facing the bed. He felt like a princess in a story waking up to such beautiful things.

He heard footsteps on the tiles in the bathroom. Peter curled his fingers around the bars of the cage. He watched the door with baited breath.

Tony came into the room. It was the kind of moment where the music stops and you can't see anyone else. Peter was frozen in time as Tony smiled at him. He came to Peter's cage and opened it. It hadn't even been locked, just latched.

"Come out, doll," he said.

It was almost a rush to be given an order and follow it. He crawled out and knelt at Tony's feet. His heart soared and his mind melted as a hand pet his hair and stroked his cheek.

"Master," he sighed. Happy tears pooled in his eyes. "Master," he said again.

"You're okay, doll," he wiped away a tear from Peter's eye. "You're a good boy. I'm so proud of you."  
"Master." One word was the only clear thought in his head. He pressed his face into Tony's hand and wrapped his arms around his legs.

"Please don't make me leave," he said.

"I wont, baby. My sweet doll."

Tony kept petting his hair, softly speaking sweet words.

"You're such a good boy. My good boy. You'll always be my doll won't you? My good doll."

His plug and cage were missing and the sound of Tony's voice was lighting up his body. He was ready to be used by his master. His hole ached with emptiness and his cock was beginning to harden just to hear his voice. Tony slipped a thumb into his mouth and he sucked on it, moaning.

"Look at me, doll."

Peter turned his head up, still sucking on the thumb in his mouth.

"What do you think of your new home?"

Peter let Tony's thumb go to tell him, "It's beautiful, master. Thank you so much! I don't deserve it."

Tony smiled at him. "I'll leave you out of your cage if you keep being good and this can be your space. You'll be comfortable and you won't be bored. And if I have to leave for a few days for work, you'll have food in your fridge. I'll keep water in there for you while I'm home."

He truly didn't deserve all of that. He didn't like the idea of being without his master, but Tony was an important man with a job to do. He couldn't be here with his doll all of the time.

"Thank you, master!" His smile was huge. He couldn't reach Tony's face and he wasn't sure he was allowed to stand so he settled for pressing kisses into Tony's thighs. His master looked down at him with a fond smile.

"You love me don't you, doll?"

"Yes, of course I do, master," Peter said without a thought, without hesitation. It felt true. It earned him his master's fingers in his hair, running through his curls, and scratching his scalp. He pressed kisses over Tonys crotch and felt his cock thickening up in his pants. He licked his lips.

"Master, will you use my mouth please?" He looked up at him. He was starting to get that dark look in his eyes that gave Peter excited chills.

"Why would I do that, doll?" he smiled, still playing with Peter's hair.

"Because it's yours, master. Your hole to fuck, if you want it."

Tony smirked. "Yeah it is. Open wide."

Peter opened his mouth and sat waiting patiently as Tony unzipped his pants. He almost couldn't wait as Tony's cock came into view. He stood with the tip just out of reach.

"This what you want?" he teased.

"Uh huh." Peter nodded with his mouth still open.

Tony tapped the tip against his cheek. "And you're a good little cock hole, desperate to please master?"

"Uh huh," he agreed, tongue out as if he could coax Tony in.

He slapped Peter's cheek with his cock. It was heavy and surprisingly painful. Tony rubbed his cock over his face and Peter fought down the urge to lick it, to suck it into his mouth. He let Tony do what he wanted and he moaned when Tony stuffed his balls into his mouth. He sucked on them lightly, not too hard, while Tony's cock rested on his face.

The act of having Tony in his mouth soothed him. Somehow the fear from before was chased away by a sense of purpose and belonging. He didn't care what Tony did to him or what he was asked to do as long as Tony was using him.

Tony's hand tapped against his cheek. "Get up on the bed."

Peter let his mouth pop as he released Tony's balls. "Yes, master," he smiled. He stood and walked to the bed. The red duvet was thick and soft under his hands. He climbed up onto it. He couldn't believe this was for him. It was just as comfortable as Tony's bed upstairs. He must have been grinning like an idiot because Tony laughed at him when he turned around.

"Is it nice, doll?"

Peter nodded. "It's the best, master. Thank you!"

Tony came to stand beside the bed. His hand reached out and Peter pressed his cheek into it. "I want to give you nice things, my doll. I really do."

"I'll be a good boy, I promise." He pressed a kiss into Tony's palm.

"Lay down on your back," he said.

Peter was quick to scoot up the bed and lay down on the pillows. Tony took his arm and pulled it up over his head. Something hard thumped against the wood as Tony pulled it out from behind the headboard. Peter looked up to see manacles. He almost laughed. He was a proper slave now. Tony clicked the cuff around his wrist. The inside was surprisingly soft, like the collar. He tugged but he couldn't get his hand free.

Tony joined him on the bed, climbing over him to grab the other chain. It closed around Peter's wrist and he was stuck with his arms stretched out in a wide V. His master knelt between his spread legs, staring down at him as he looked up in awe.

"What am I going to do with you now?"

Peter wasn't sure how to describe the feeling that he had as he looked up at Tony, arms strapped down to the bed and useless. If he had to pick just one he'd call it euphoria.

"I want to hurt you," he decided. His fingers trailed over Peter's belly. He shivered, ticklish.

"Please, master."

Tony slapped his cheek and he moaned. He pressed his thumb against Peter's lips and he sucked it in, tasting him with his tongue. Tony was watching him with an expression that Peter couldn't read.  
"You've been such a good toy..."

Peter's eyes fell shut as he sucked on Tony's thumb. He was in heaven. Tony took his thumb away and slapped him again, harder this time. He blinked up at him with a blissful smile and got a smile from his master in return.

"Beg me to fuck you," he said.

Peter's heart leaped at the though. "Master, please, please fuck me! I'm your doll. Your fuck toy. Master please!" He tugged at the chains on his wrists as if he meant to pull Tony into him.

Tony licked his lips and Peter thought for a moment he might be salivating. His fingers trailed down the length of his body from his chin to his waist. He whimpered as his fingers just passed his hard, now leaking, cock. His was burning with the need to have his master inside him at the mere suggestion of it and it might break him not to get it now.

"Stay," he said, amused little smirk on his lips. Peter watched him slip down from the bed. He squirmed, excited, to watch him strip out of his clothes. He went to his toy box and came back with a bottle of lube.

"Sometime I'll watch you open yourself up for me, but I'm enjoying you tied up today." He climbed back in between Peter's legs and pushed them back, bending his knees with his feet on the bed. He slid down the bed onto his stomach. His hands spread open Peter's ass and he felt warm breath against his hole. He shivered, anticipating. Then his master's tongue ran over his hole and he nearly screamed. It was so warm and wet and his hole so sensitive. His cock jumped against his belly.

"Master," he sighed.

Fingers spread him open and master's tongue pushed inside. He moaned and whined as Tony ate him out until he wanted to cry. His cock ached and his hole was too sensitive.

"Please master, your cock," he whined. He gasped as Tony bit into his thigh.

"This what you want, doll?" He stroked his cock with a lube slick hand. He was fully hard and on the side of too big and Peter wanted all of it. He needed to feel him throbbing inside him, needed his cum buried deep.

"Yes, master. Please fuck me!"

His master pushed his legs back against his chest. Then he pushed the head of his cock inside. As he filled him, Peter felt calmer, happier, he knew he was fulfilling his purpose. It always hurt a little as he stretched, but the pain didn't matter. His master seemed pleased. And besides, he'd said he wanted to hurt him. So he let him.

He laid passive, whimpering as his master fucked him deep, whining as his cock threatened to tear him open. He didn't hold back as the sting brought a tear to his eye. Master was so rough with him and he loved it. Loved that he would have bruises on his hips.

"My pretty doll," his master growled, low, close to cumming.

Peter clenched down, squeezing around him he loved the way it made him moan. "All yours, master. Yours forever."

Master's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing gently as he stared down into his eyes, rutting deep into his ass. Peter stared back as his hand slowly tightened, a wild grin on his lips as started to gasp and choke. A breathless laugh sang like music in Peter's ears as he watched Peter gasp for air he couldn't pull in. His master kissed his breathless lips. Peter decided that if he had to die, then this was how he wanted to go. Let his master strangle him, cumming in his ass, with their lips pressed together. The only breath he wanted in his mouth was his master's.

Tony sighed and he sat back, letting go of Peter's throat. He pulled his cock out, leaving Peter feeling wet and empty. His own cock throbbed, fully swollen and neglected.

"Does the little doll want to cum?"

Peter whimpered as he touched him with one finger. "Yes, master."

Master pressed two fingers inside his cum slick hole. Peter cried out as he found his prostate.

"Come on, doll. Let's see you cum."

He was rubbing the spot way too fast and way too hard. Peter could barely breathe. When he came, his body went stiff as cum shot from his cock. And it didn't stop. He kept cumming and cumming as his master milked his prostate.

"Master, master please," he whined, but he wasn't even sure if he wanted more or if he wanted him to stop. He couldn't see through the tears in his eyes.

Finally, his fingers were removed. Master pressed a kiss to the brand on his belly and one to his lips.  
"You're so perfect..." he whispered as if he were thinking out loud. Peter blushed.

"I only want to make you happy, master."

Tony eyed him with a look Peter couldn’t place. His hand pet Peter's cheek. "Let's get cleaned up, my doll."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AN** This chapter contains a graphic description of a panic attack

They showered together and Tony cleaned them both up. Then he pecked Peter's forehead and smacked his ass before going upstairs.

Now that he was alone, Peter took some time to examine his new living space. On the bookshelf he found a book written about bdsm from the perspective of a woman who lived what she called a '24/7 slave lifestyle'. It claimed to be a guide on how to feel fulfilled while living your life for your master's pleasure. Beside it was a woman's fitness guide detailing how to stay 'fit and thin' without gaining too much 'ugly' muscle. There were a few other books in the same vein as the first two.

On a stand below the tv was a dvd player and a row of dvds. They were similar to the bookshelf. There was a workout video, yoga, and the rest was porn. Several featured heavy bondage and 'punishment'. One was roleplay of a barely legal boy being kidnapped by an older man. Peter shivered. It was little too close to home. He got the idea though. Tony meant for him to be pretty, healthy, and constantly horny. Easy. No problem.

Inside the mini fridge was mostly bottled water. There was also a few bottles of organic fruit juice and some yogurt smoothies. Stuff he could use to stay hydrated or snack on when Tony was busy. He checked the bathroom next.

On the wall opposite the door, there was a new floor length mirror. He supposed it was there to inspire him to be prettier. Peter was a little irritated with himself when it worked. The closet had new clothes for him, though they were similar to before. Soft and pastel or white. There were shorts, skirts, leggings, tshirts and thigh highs. No underwear. Apparently dolls don't need those.

On the counter was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a new hairbrush. There were also some products like lotion, moisturizer, conditioner, stuff that would likely become a part of his new beauty routine. He picked up a purple bottle and found lavender bubble bath that he was genuinely excited to use. He caught his own smile in the mirror. This was good. Maybe this lifestyle would suit him more than a job at SI anyway. Who needs to develop technology when you can be a pretty toy for a man like Tony Stark?

Then there was the bed. It was huge and beautiful and the most comfortable thing he'd ever laid on. But of course, at the headboard and on either side, metal loops were drilled into the wall. They made ideal places for Peter to be chained or cuffed like he had the night before. He ran his finger over a silvery loop. He wondered what other things Tony had planned.

He spent the day sipping on a bottle of cranberry-apple juice and reading the slave book. It was interesting enough and it wasn't that different from Peter's life other than that she did all of the cooking and cleaning as well as spending her time taking care of her body. It was nice to connect with another person in a similar situation, though she had consented to the life she lived, but at least Peter's master didn't give him as many boring jobs like writing lines or scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush for the sake of discipline. Tony had likely read this book before giving it to him. He hoped he didn't like any of these ideas. Though, he might enjoy it if Tony let him into the house and let him take care of the house work. It hadn't been that bad when Tony made him clean the basement after all.

After relaxing with his book, he decided to start his new life out right. Peter went into the bathroom and looked himself over in the mirror. His hair and skin were on the dry side and the hair on his legs was growing back. Time to turn himself into the doll his master deserved. He hoped Tony would be pleasantly surprised when he came to see him.

He ran the bath and added the lavender bubbles to the water. The woman in the book had talked about having a mantra, something about serving his master. Peter thought it was silly, but as he relaxed into the water, he let himself think about Tony and how much he adored him. He thought about how he happy he was when Tony came to get him. He wanted to make Tony happy, too. He would be the prettiest, most well behaved doll. And Tony would let him keep all his new things and maybe even fuck him again in his big beautiful bed.

Peter picked up the razor Tony had left for him and a bottle of shaving gel. He shaved away the hair on his legs before deciding to keep going. He shaved his underarms smooth then went back to shave his pubic region. Then he drained the water from the tub.

The lavender smell had soaked into his skin. There were two bottles of lotion for him and he smelled them both before deciding which one smelled best with the lavender. Then he moisturized from head to toe. Including his hair, which he found a nice product for.

He never grew a lot of facial hair, but he had a shadow on his chin that he didn't think Tony would like so that went, too. He picked out an outfit of a pale blue sweater and matching shorts. Then he threw on some white thigh highs, blushing at himself. When he looked in the mirror, he saw someone else. For a moment he was frozen, shocked and terrified at what he had become. A memory of his old life slipped through. He'd never cared this much about how he looked. Never. Not once. He had more important things to do. He'd never worn anything so... 'cute'. He'd always worn black skinny jeans and pop culture tshirts and old worn Chucks that he'd bought in high school and never replaced.

He couldn't breathe.

He was dying.

Dying.

He sat down on the floor and the tiles were too hard and too cold. He leaned against the side of the tub and it was too sharp so he moved toward the wall and that was too hard. He was gasping. He wasn't sure when he'd started gasping. He tugged at his damp hair, trying to get a hold of himself.

He was dying. He was going to die.

It was all wrong.

"Please," he said out loud to no one. He was scared. He needed help. He didn't want to die alone.  
He cried, heavy wet tears that almost felt like they were burning his face. He crawled to the door to let the steam out. Maybe it was the heat, he needed the cool air of the basement. He crawled out into the other room. The floor was too hard so he crawled to the rug at the end of his bed. It irritated his skin. Why was everything too much?

"Master," he sobbed. "Help me, please." He curled in on himself and covered his hands in his face. He was dizzy from breathing so hard. When he closed his eyes the room spun, but when he opened them everything felt foreign like he'd never seen it before.

Wrong. All wrong.

\-----

He knew this day would come. Of course he did. He knew that pushing Peter's mind to break would leave him damaged. That was the whole point. He needed to be not just fully dependent on Tony, but he had to feel like he wanted to be. But a human brain is a human brain and human brains don't care much for captivity. Sure humans need order, rules, structure, but put them in a cage and they're bound to lose it sooner or later. He had to be prepared so that he didn't lose him. If Peter went catatonic, he'd lose everything.

Obviously, there were cameras in every room of the house. Especially the basement. He saw his doll curled up with his book. He saw him get into the bath. He'd watched fondly as his boy shaved away the hair that Tony didn't care for. He'd watched anxiously as Peter picked up that razor. Was he stable enough to be trusted with it?

Then Peter had stood there, staring into the mirror. Frozen. Tony waited.

When Peter fell to the floor crying, Tony was on his feet in a second, but he waited still. If Peter were crying because he wanted to go home, then Tony needed to march down there and put him in his place. It would mean that he'd rushed things and he needed put Peter back in the cage. He wasn't ready to be Tony's good doll.

If this was a panic attack, that was different. That meant Peter's head had cracked like he thought, like he'd planned. Now it was trying to remind him that he should be scared. That his life was out of his control. That this was wrong.

He had hoped to help Peter combat this before it could start, because of course it would come eventually. Something, some errant thought in his darling head, must have triggered it. Of course, Tony was prepared.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed an orange bottle from the locked cabinet. He dumped a little yellow pill out onto his palm. Then he went down stairs.

He found Peter on the floor, at the end of the bed. The poor thing was sobbing. It might have excited him if this weren't so dangerous.

"Come here, sweetheart," Tony cooed. He pulled Peter up into his arms.

The boy gasped. His hands clasped at Tony's shirt, too long nails scratching at his skin. "I've got you, baby."

"Master!" he sobbed and the sob broke into a whimper and the sound was so incredibly pleasant that Tony considered for half a second fucking him while he was like this. He couldn't do that. He couldn't let him get any more scared. He wanted the boy broken, not talking to the walls crazy.

He carried Peter to the bed and set him down against the pillows. There was a lighter blanket at the bottom of the bed that he wrapped around his shoulders. He gave Peter a kiss on his forehead. Already, he was breathing a little slower, but only a little.

"Master... please. I can't breathe-" he broke into tears again.

"Yes, you can, sweet doll. Just relax for me. You'll be okay."

Tony left him to go to the fridge. Satisfaction lit up in his gut when Peter's arms reached for him. He grabbed a bottle of water and went back to the bed. He let Peter pull himself into Tony's lap as he sat down. There weren't words that could express how pleased he was.

"Take this." He pushed the pill into Peter's hand and opened the bottle for him.

"What is it?"

"Just take it." He kissed his temple, nuzzled against his damp hair. He wanted him so badly. He was so vulnerable and afraid. He could make him like this, some other time when his head was in a better place.

Peter swallowed the little pill. He pressed the cold water bottle to his neck.

"Too warm?" Tony went to move the blanket and Peter pulled it tighter.

"Hot and cold. And I can't breathe," he sobbed.

"Sh sh, stop that. Breathe slower for me." He guided Peter through slow deep breathes. Once his heart slowed and his dilated pupils shrunk, he knew it had passed.

"Feel better?" Peter nodded. He was clearly still anxious, but it wasn't overwhelming him anymore.

"What happened, doll?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know, master. I just got out of the bath and I felt weird."

"What were you thinking about?"

Peter went stiff. He shrugged again after a moment.

"Tell me," Tony said, firmly.  
"My life before..."

He must have been scared he would be punished for bringing it up, but Peter was too fragile right now for punishment. He wished he could make Peter forget that anything had ever come before him, but he wouldn't punish him.

"It's okay, doll. I understand. Change is scary."

"I don't want to leave," Peter sniffed. "Please don't make me leave."

Tony wrapped his arms around him. He smiled into Peter's bouncy curls. He'd fluffed them up nicely. Tony was so pleased by how pretty he'd made himself and he hoped he'd get the chance to reward him.  
"I won't, little doll. No matter what. I'll keep you here forever. You're mine." He couldn't resist trailing his fingers down Peter's side to find his name on his hip. If he wasn't hard from watching the boy cry, he was now thinking about his name on his skin. Thinking about the way he screamed when he branded him.

"Thank you, master," Peter breathed. As if he were happy, relieved, as if his heart knew he truly belonged here.

This was why he'd pushed him with that little test. He wanted to own Peter, but he also wanted Peter to want to be owned by him. That was something so much sweeter. Had he run off, of course, Tony would have known the second his little toes had left the porch. He would have let him run a mile or two, let him wear himself out, let him think he was free. Then he would have dragged him back, kicking and screaming. He would have punished him terribly. It would have been unfortunate considering his possessive nature could be hard to contain and he absolutely would have broken him.

Not that this wasn't broken. But it was better. This was ideal. Only it got better.

His sweet little broken doll turned and looked at him with wet eyes and blotchy cheeks. His eyes flicked down his lips and Tony nearly lost it. The sweet little lamb. It tasted like victory when Peter kissed him.

This was it. He did it. Peter was fully dependent on him, fully bent to his desires, an obedient little doll. He was going to test some day how far that obedience could be pushed, but this was more than enough for now.

He caught Peter's face in his hands and slowly rolled him onto his back. He kept kissing him, kept it slow and sweet, tasting the smooth velvet of his mouth. His little doll made desperate noises under him like he needed him. He gasped and moaned when he kissed the side of his neck. He whined as he sucked a mark there.

The sound he made when Tony rubbed his cock through his shorts was heavenly. His doll was hard for him. Tony didn't waste any time in shucking off his pants and grabbing some lube.

"Master, please," he gasped. The sound he made when Tony entered him had him drooling for more. His dainty fingers clawed at his shoulders. He knew he was going too fast, not careful enough, and he didn't care. Peter had fresh tears in his eyes from the pain of being filled too quickly, yet he whined and moaned and begged for more.

He grabbed Peter's ankle, all soft in his white thigh highs, and pushed it back to his chest. He pushed himself in deeper, moaning as he was fully wrapped in tight, silken, heat.

"Master, too deep," Peter whimpered. He nearly screamed when Tony pulled back and thrust back in just as deep. His fingers reached under his shirt and scratched at his back. He'd bare those scratches with delight remembering his doll like this.

He whimpered into Tony's mouth as he kissed him. Moaned when Tony pulled his hair. Tony felt like he was soaking the boy up until he could feel nothing else. He watched his face, saw the pain, pleasure, need as his face expressed it all. Perfect. Just like everything Tony created, he was perfect.

All of his little sounds went higher. He was close. Close to cumming on his cock alone. His nails broke skin as his hands clenched. His mouth fell open wide and his eyes squeezed shut, forcing out fresh tears as he reached climax. He called out for his master in the most sugary, innocent, voice and that's what did it for him. He came, stuffing his cock deep in Peter's ass.

He held the boy's face and kissed his cheeks and his gasping pink lips.

"Master," he cooed. "My master."

"My doll," he growled in answer. He pulled out and looked at him lying limp on the bed as if a broken doll. He was still dressed, with his shorts askew having pulled them to the side. His perfect curls were a mess and his eyes were wet and the sight of him made Tony's cock twitch despite the low odds of him getting it up again now.

He would wonder how he'd managed to find a creature so perfect if it weren't that he'd built him himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Master kept fussing over him after the whole panic attack incident. He'd taken the mirror from the bathroom, just in case. Then he'd set up a sun lamp and a wooden planter of succulents. There was a hanging plant with another lamp in the corner by the bathroom. There were more blankets on his bed now, which were extremely soft. He'd also given his doll some cartoons to watch for when he was feeling down. He was pleased that master cared about him and that his living space only became more beautiful under his care. He'd do anything for his master, to earn it, and because Tony deserved it. Look how good he was to him. He was even coming downstairs more often and feeding him more regular meals. Peter felt kind of bad for scaring him. He was going to try his best to be a happy doll for his master.

It was so easy when his master came down for meals and gave him lots of attention. He'd feed him off his fingers and let Peter suck on them. Then he'd pet his cheeks or his hair. Master even praised him for shaving without being asked and he received kisses all over his bare legs. Master said he was beautiful and Peter blushed all the way down to his toes. He loved making his master happy. He loved his master. Peter lived for every moment they were together.

So it broke his heart when Tony told him that he would be leaving.

"It's only for a few days. I'll leave you plenty of food. You'll be fine."

Peter had been kneeling on the floor as his master spoke to him. Now he hugged on to his legs as though to stop him from leaving.

"None of that, doll. Tell me you understand."

He used his stern voice and Peter didn't want to disappoint him so he sat himself up, just holding onto Tony's pants with his fingers. He sniffed, holding back tears at the thought of being alone. "Yes, master. You'll be back in a few days."

"I expect you to take care of yourself while I'm gone."

"I will, master." Peter sniffed again. He felt cold and scared already.

"It won't be so bad. And I'll give you a task to do while I'm gone. Are you listening?"

Peter looked up at his master's face. "Yes, sir."

"I won't allow you to cum while I'm gone. I'll punish you terribly if you do and yes I will know. But I expect you to edge yourself for me. Whenever you find yourself thinking about me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." He chewed his lip. He'd end up edging all day at this rate. What else did he have to think about? What else mattered anymore?

"I expect you to eat properly, water your plants, have some recreation time, but no moping in bed all day. You got me?"

"Yes, master." Peter couldn't force a smile, but he tried not to look so sad. "I'll be your good doll."

"I hope so, doll. There's something we need to take care of before I go."

"What is it, sir?"

"Making sure you remember to behave."

He wasn't sure what Tony meant to do. Maybe he'd spank him again. At least his master wanted to spend more time with him before he left.

Master told him to sit still, so Peter sat on the floor. He dragged one of those devices that Peter had noticed before into the middle of the room. He called Peter over.

It was some kind of padded bench with straps. Tony told him to stand and bent him over the bench. His wrists were cuffed, arms bent in ninety-degree angles, hanging down by his sides. Then his ankles were cuffed, with his feet on the floor. He liked the bondage, though it made him nervous. Anxiety and excitement twisted together and left him jittery. It was the sound of his master's voice that saved him.

"Relax, doll." He laid his hand lightly on Peter's back. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You, master." His master's good and perfect doll. He could be good and perfect and take whatever master gave him as long as he was happy.

"And this ass?"

"Yours, master." It felt a bit like falling under a trance, but it was submission that fell over him. He shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin.

"That's right. My doll. My toy. You'll be very good while I'm away won't you?"

"Yes, sir," Peter agreed. He wanted to be good.

He wasn't sure what master hit him with but it made a light sound in the air. He hissed when it smacked against his skin. The pain was sharp and stinging.

"We'll make sure your ass is good and sore. It will be your reminder to behave."

Peter gasped as he struck him again. "I'll be good, master," he whimpered.

"We're making sure of it now, aren't we?"

Each stinging swat was enough to make him hiss. Peter lost count soon after twenty strikes. The pain had him whimpering and struggling to be still. With tears in his eyes, he repeated in his mind his need to be good, a good toy for his master. If his master wanted to hurt him, then he would be a good boy and he wouldn't struggle. It didn't stop him from crying and sniffling.

"Please master," he finally broke and found himself whimpering.

Tony finally paused. "I'm not finished, doll. Are you questioning my judgment?" He tapped whatever he held against Peter's leg. He could feel now that it was very thin and either smooth wood or plastic. Plastic would have broken by now though. He'd taken quite a beating.

"No, master. I'm yours." Peter sniffled. It hurt so much. His ass and thighs felt like they were covered in open cuts. He thought about the brand on his belly. Sometimes master hurt him so badly. He whimpered and fresh tears rolled down his cheek as his master ran his fingers down his abused skin. He was shaking now.

"Just a few more," master said. His voice sounded distracted.

He struck his ass again with the thin rod and he kept going until Peter was screaming with each hit. Then he was finally done. His whole body trembled and he hung limply over the bench. Master kept touching him where he was sore while he whimpered.

"Master... please..." Peter whispered, too weak to speak up after so much.

"Look at that..." master said, seeming not to hear him. "Fuck."

He walked around Peter and raised his chin with two fingers. His eyes examined his face. Peter imagined he looked like a mess with wet cheeks and red eyes. Whatever master saw must have excited him because he grabbed Peter by the hair and bent to kiss him. His kiss was almost as rough as the beating. When Tony pulled away, he straightened and ran a hand through his hair. Peter caught sight of the bulge in his pants. Despite the pain, he felt his own body respond, heat rushing down to his cock.

He walked back around him. Peter hissed when he touched his sore ass. He listened as Tony walked away. He went to his box of toys. Peter couldn't see, but as he came back he heard the slick sound of master's hand lubing up his cock.

Peter wanted to beg him not to, not now when he was so sore. He bit his lip to keep quiet. Yet, there was no silencing his whimpering as his master forced his cock into his ass or his scream when his pants pressed against his inflamed skin.

"Fuck," Tony hissed. "Gonna make me cum, sounding like that."

He was helpless to do anything but scream and sob as his master used him. The sensation made his head spin. There was so much pain, but so much friction. Friction he had been taught to love. He let himself whimper and cry, shutting his brain off, shutting anything out that wasn't what his master wanted. He wanted Peter's pain and the squeezing heat of his ass. So he cried and did his best to be still.

"Good doll," Tony groaned. "Good fucking toy. Fucking cry for me. Shit!"

He buried himself in Peter's ass. Then his hand smacked against it, against angry and swollen skin. Peter screamed and that's what set his master off, cumming deep inside him.

Peter trembled. He struggled to catch his breath. He couldn't seem to stop whimpering as pain blinded him. He felt the cock leave his ass and he heard shoes cross the floor. Master must have gone into the bathroom to clean up. He came back with a damp rag and cleaned away cum and lube.

Peter hisses and whimpered as Tony rubbed something into his abused skin. He felt exhausted. He was too weak to move even when master uncuffed his wrists and ankles. He rubbed something into the sore skin their, too. Peter didn't care what it was.

"Come here, doll," master coaxed. Peter whimpered as he was pulled to his feet and off the device. He could barely command his legs to move, but he followed obediently and climbed into the bed. He blinked his wet eyes to see his master standing beside the bed. His pants were stained with Peter's blood. Not a terrible amount of it, but it was clear he'd broken skin.

"Get some rest, my doll. I'll be leaving soon."

"Master?" Peter reached for him and barely managed to catch his fingers before he could step back. "Could you... I mean would you please..." He wasn’t sure if it would upset him and he couldn't know if he would be in trouble for asking it.

"What is it, doll?" Tony let him hold his hand so he thought it might be alright.

"Would you stay with me please, before you go? Just for a little while, I mean... if you wouldn't mind, master? Would you hold me?"

He didn't answer right away. He pushed sweaty curls from Peter's face. Then his fingers trailed down to touch Peter's lips. He sucked lightly on the tips as he pushed into Peter's mouth. He closed his eye and decided that if this was as much attention as he would get, he would take it.

"For a little while, doll," master said. He laid down on the bed, back propped up on the pillows. Peter crawled over to him, on his belly. He laid his head and chest on top of him. A sigh left his lips as Tony started to absently play with his hair. Then he fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oopsy! Guess who increased the chapter count! I didn't like the original ending that I wrote. It sort of tapered off without any real conclusion and it wasn't satisfying, but I love this fic so much and so many of you have given it so much love that I've been working on a new ending. I currently have through chapter 18 finished and I'm very certain that it'll be 20 chapters when it's done, but please don't be mad if I happen to wrap it up in 19. All I want is for this story to have the satisfying end that it deserves. Thanks coming along with me through this story. It started off as a drabble I wrote to scratch an itch and after writing five chapters worth of nonsensical smut, a plot happened completely by accident.
> 
> So anyway, welcome to chapter 15: the chapter where it was all meant to end, but somehow the damn thing just wouldn't die.

Peter woke up warm enough to be a little sweaty. He smiled to find Tony still in his bed. He'd sunken down some on the pillows and was quietly snoring. Peter watched him sleep for a while finding the rise and fall of his master's chest to be soothing. He just hoped he wouldn't be angry with Peter for asking him to stay. He hoped he wasn’t late. He was supposed to be leaving after all.

It didn't seem like a good idea to wake him up. So, Peter left him to rest while he went to the bathroom. He did his business and then carefully climbed into the shower. He was careful not to let the water run down his back as he washed away the sweat from his skin. Still he was curious and he couldn't help reaching behind him to run his fingers over the still raised lines. Just brushing his fingers against his skin made him whimper. Most if it felt like welts which would heal fine in a day or two, but there were two thin lines that were starting to scab. He needed to be careful so it wouldn't scar.

He was wet between his ass cheeks. Peter carefully touched his hole and moaned. Master's cum was still inside him. He braced himself with an arm against the wall. His cock ached, instantly hard. He needed to cum so badly. The odds weren't in his favor that he would get to cum before master left. He missed his cock inside him already. He took a deep breath to steady himself. It wasn’t easy to ignore his hard cock, but he knew he wouldn't upset his master. He was sure master would be angry if he so much as wrapped a hand around his cock.

He turned off the water and stepped out, hissing as he bent his legs to climb over the tub. He dried off with a towel, careful to avoid his backside. Without a mirror, Peter combed his hair. He wanted to look nice for his master before he left. He should get to see his doll being pretty and happy just like he likes.  
"Doll?" Tony's voice called from the other room. Peter hurried out from the bathroom without dressing. Master was standing beside the bed. His face was anxious until he saw Peter.

"I hope you slept well, master," Peter smiled.

"I did... come here, doll."

Peter happily padded across the floor. He was startled when master grabbed his freshly combed curls. He whined, but he kept still.

"You're mine, aren't you?" He said. His face was impossible to read. Peter wondered if he'd done something wrong.

"Yes, master. I'm yours." What could he say to cheer him up? He wanted him to smile.

Master stared at him for a long moment. Slowly, he released his grip. "Let me look at your ass," he said, turning Peter around.

"I don't want you sitting on this until the scabbing is healed. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

He gasped as the palm of Tony's hand cupped his ass. "So pretty," he said. Peter relaxed into the touch as his hand moved up his back. "Turn around."

Peter turned, melting as master pulled him in against his chest. He didn't seem to care at all that Peter's hair was still dripping.

"How about a goodbye kiss before I go?"

Peter couldn’t contain his smile. He pushed up on his toes and pressed his lips to Tony's. He moaned at the feeling of warm lips sliding against each other. Master's hands pressed firmly into his back to hold him close. Peter slid his hands up master's arms and held on to his shoulders. He'd never gotten to touch him this much before. He soaked up the feeling, hoping to remember it later when he was alone. He was left a little dizzy when they parted.

He looked up at his master with hazy vision. He felt so warm, so happy.

"Come back soon, master," he said a bit shyly and with a part of his mind still surprised by his behavior.

Tony smiled and gave him another quick kiss. "Be good while I'm gone."

"I will. I promise!" Peter smiled wide. That he could do. He was certain that he could do anything for his master's sake. Anything to be a good doll.

He stared at the door to the basement long after master had gone. He stood there hoping he would come back, hoping it was another test, hoping and waiting. When his legs tired he sat down on the floor and he kept watching for the door handle to turn. He wondered if it would still shock him if he tried to go upstairs. Most likely it would. Unless that was part of the test. Either way, he would be a good doll and stay in his basement that master made beautiful for him until he returned. Eventually the stress of being apart drained him and he fell asleep on the floor.

\-----

Tony watched his little doll from the camera. He smiled fondly to see him standing there, watching the door. He hoped he wasn’t distressed enough to make himself sick again.

If it weren't important, he wouldn't have left the house. He hadn't planned on truly leaving Peter alone until he'd given him a test run. He was going to let Peter think he had left for a day when really he was just out in the workshop. Tony's workshop wasn't attached to the house, so Peter wouldn't have heard him moving around. Unfortunately, work called for his physical presence and he couldn't make a single legitimate excuse this time. He kept the screen visible on his laptop as he drove. By the time he made it into the city, Peter was sleeping on the floor.

He set a timer on his watch to check on Peter every forty minutes. If anyone cared that he spent half the meeting looking at his phone, they didn't say. He could multitask and he didn't miss a single word. It was impressive, even for him, when you considered that Peter had spent most of his time edging like he'd been ordered to. It would seem the poor, sweet, perfect, little toy couldn't stop thinking about his master. Tony thanked every star in the sky that he'd thought to shove an earpiece into one ear. He heard every delicate little whimper, every intake of breath, how Peter whined and cooed 'master' so sweetly.

He laid on his side so as not to bother his healing skin but, like the treasure he was, he couldn't keep his hands off it. He hissed and whimpered as his fingers touch painful red bumps. Tony couldn't help licking his lips. His plan had been to get off in his office after the meeting, but as he sat at his desk, watching Peter wrap a hand around his cock for the fifth time in three hours, he decided to join in Peter's game. He would let himself cum only if Peter did and if he didn't, if he was a good doll, then it would be a treat for both of them when they did get off.

Before laying down to sleep in the penthouse he hadn’t seen in almost four months, he changed the alarm to alert him if Peter moved from the bed. It woke him only once when Peter got up to use the bathroom. Then he was back in bed, stroking his cock and whimpering desperately. Tony thought for sure this was it, but he was impressed when Peter went back to sleep without cumming.

In the morning Peter managed to eat breakfast and bathe himself before his first breakdown hit. Tony watched with baited breath to see how far it would go. He sat on the bed, ignoring his sore ass, sobbing into his hands. If Tony were being honest, his heart broke a little bit.

"Master..." his whimpered. "Please come home... please..."

Tony kicked himself. He should have planned for a way to communicate with him. Next time he'd be better prepared. The trip had just been so sudden. Damn Pepper. She just had to say that he would make the next meeting in person. He'd been pulling off the act of recluse inventor so well.

He let himself soak up the sweet sound of Peter's crying for a while. He didn't seem to fall into a particularly terrible panic attack this time so Tony figured he would be okay. When he next checked in, Peter had his cartoons on and was giggling while he watered his plants. Tony smiled to watch him. He must have been healing nicely, because he'd put on some soft cotton shorts and a sweater. He double checked the house's smart system to be sure the basement wasn't too cold.

Peter sure looked cute stroking his cock and wearing his sweater. He was laying with his head off the bed, fluffy hair hanging down. Fuck if he wasn’t the most beautiful human being in the world. When he got back he needed to trim his hair and let him get some sunlight. He'd have to start taking him out regularly. The collar would keep him from running off. He couldn't wait to get home.

Tony had planned on staying a second night at the tower, but he just couldn't. Not when he was forced to watch Peter moaning and squirming and fucking his fist while he cried out for his master. He needed to see that doll hanging off his cock. He needed to make him cry. On the drive home he thought up what he wanted to do to the boy. He decided it was time to test how far Peter's obedience could be pushed with a game that Peter would hate and that Tony would rewatch from his camera feed until the day he died.

\-----

Peter was moaning, rutting against the mattress, when he thought he heard a car above. He stopped and listened. A door slammed shut. Then there were footsteps on the porch. The front door opened. He ran to the bottom of the stairs.

Tense with anticipation, Peter stood and waited. A minute passed before the door opened. Air filled his lungs as his master appeared. He felt as though he'd been holding his breath as long as he had been gone.

"Did you miss me?"

Peter nodded his head, mouth hanging open like he'd forgotten how to speak. "Y-yes, sir. So much, master. I'm so happy you're home!"

He fell to his knees as Tony stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He reached a hand down and Peter took it. He kissed each individual finger, then his palm, then his wrist, then he pressed his cheek into his hand.

"Were you good for me, doll?"

"Yes, master," he sighed. "I'm your good doll. All yours. Wanna be good for you."

Tony's fingers touched his lips and he opened his mouth. Two fingers went in and he didn't pull away even as he gagged.

"Look how hard you are, doll." Peter gasped, then gagged again, when Tony toed at the bulge in his shorts. "Such a good little toy." He stuffed his fingers in deep. "I missed this cock hole."

His finger's probed his mouth and fucked his throat. Just when Peter thought he might cum untouched from master's fingers in his mouth, he took them out and wiped the spit on Peter's cheek. Tony turned and walked further into the room. Peter crawled after him.

"Plants are doing nicely, you've been taking good care of them."

"Yes, sir."

"How long has it been since you ate?" he asked, though he was still observing the succulents.

"A few hours I think, sir..." Peter wasn’t sure what to make of the question or of Tony's inspection of the space. He'd been so relieved that his master was home, but now he was growing anxious.

"Perfect." Master shot him a smile. "Let's take a bath."

Peter knelt on the floor and watched the water flow into the tub. Tony checked the temperature a few times. Peter found it odd that he seemed to be keeping the water cool, but maybe he'd forgotten which direction was warm on the dial. It didn't matter when master was gazing at him with dark eyes and Peter could see he was already growing hard.

"Take you clothes off," he said.

Peter stood, in a hurry, forgetting how he'd planned in his head to be sexier and more seductive for his master. He stripped out of his clothes. The fabric became a blue and pale gray pile on the floor. Master touched his chin, tipping his head back. Then he dragged his fingers down Peter's chest. He whimpered as he played with a nipple.

"Let me see your ass."

Peter turned around. A smack to his still healing ass made him yelp. He looked over his shoulder to see master lick his lips. Peter shuddered. Master was feeling sadistic today. Whatever he was up to wasn't going to be fun.

"Looks good, doll. I'm glad you've been taking care of it. Good to see a nice caning works to remind you to behave."

"Your name is always on me, sir. How could I forget?"

Tony yanked him backward by his hair and Peter squealed. "Are you sassing me, fuck toy?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry," Peter whimpered, voice cracking.

Tony pressed against his back. "I thought not." His hands explored his bare skin, finger tips tingling against his belly, his chest, bring more heat between his legs. "Kneel down in front of the tub."

Peter gently slipped from Tony's arms and let himself drop down to the hard tiles.

"Closer to the tub," he said. "Put your knees against it."

Peter shifted forward. The familiarity of the position sunk in and his stomach dropped. "Master?"

Tony knelt down behind him, his front against Peter's back. He leaned forward, pushing Peter toward the water. "Relax, doll. Just breathe."

"Master, please..."

"I haven't even done anything to you. In fact, I'm not going to. Not what you're thinking anyway."

Peter relaxed a little. He tried to ignore the toilet in the corner and the memory that still haunted it.

Then Tony said in his ear, "You're going to do it for me."

"Master?"

"Put your head down in the water, doll."

"But..." He heard the zipper and felt Tony moving behind him to take out his cock.

"Look, doll. In the water."

Peter looked down where he was reflected in the water. Master was there behind him. "Who's toy is that?"

"Yours, master," he whispered, afraid to admit it with the water so close.

"You know what you're good for. What toys are good for. Don't disappoint me."

He listened to the wet sound of Tony slicking his cock with lube. His heart was racing. He thought he might be sick. He wasn’t sure what was worse, sticking his head under the water or disappointing his master. He was frozen, unable to make himself move. What would happen if he couldn't do it?

"Perhaps, I came home too soon..."

"No, master," Peter sobbed. "I missed you so much." He fought back tears that stung his eyes.

"Show me that you're mine. Don't make me angry."

Peter put his hands on the edge of the tub. He slowly leaned forward. The water grew closer to his face as he bent over the edge. He could feel it before it ever touched his skin. Then his cheek touched the water. He'd reflexively turned away, but he could do better than that. He had to do better. A sob broke from his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut. Then he turned his face into the water.

He submerged himself until water filled his ears. Then he counted the seconds. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, he choked as his master's cock pushed into his hole. He was too tight already from the time spent apart. It felt too much like the first time. He pulled up from the water.

Peter gasped and tossed his head, spilling water on the floor. He coughed, feeling the dry burn of water in his throat. A rough hand on the back of his neck held him and master said, "If you want to be a good doll, you'll stay down there until I pull you back up."

"No, please," he whimpered. Yet, he bent forward again and put his head under the water. Master never pushed him down, never held him there, he did it himself. Because he was told to, because he was a good boy. Still he fought not to inhale, fought not to pull himself up, even as his master's cock filled his too tight ass. Every helpless whimper sent precious air floating to the surface in a rush of bubbles.

His head jerked, determined to disobey him, determined to survive what felt like certain death. Peter fought back, keeping his head under, until the moment came that his master caught his hair and pulled him back. Peter choked and gasped. He sucked in air only to cough it back up as he felt the water that had seeped into his sinuses.

Tony kept fucking him, moaning as Peter's muscles tensed with every ragged cough. "That's a good doll," he praised and somehow it eased his suffering. "How does it feel, toy? Scary?" He kissed a wet cheek as Peter cried.

"Yes, sir," he sobbed. "Hurts."

"Good." He shoved in deep and Peter whined. "Do it again."

Peter whimpered. He bent toward the water, finding it easier this time. He took a deep breath then he plunged his head in. He tried to focus more on the cock in his ass, fucking him deep, bruising his insides and forcing him open. It didn't hurt as bad as the water in his lungs or maybe he was just more used to it. It was impossible to distract himself for long. The worst part was that he couldn't hear his master moaning and grunting and taking his pleasure. He needed to hear that he was good. That he was a good toy and a good doll and his master was enjoying using him. Under the water was as lonely as it was scary.

He waited longer to pull him out this time. Peter had put his own hands behind his back to stop himself from fighting and now he was growing tired, dizzy. He didn't know which way was up to escape the water if he wanted. Then like an angel, his master pulled him from the water. Peter coughed and retched and then he smiled at his master's mercy. Master let him lay his head on the side of the tub and rest while he used him.

Peter felt so strangely euphoric. He loved his master's cock inside him and he didn't mind the water in his nose so much. He'd gotten so used to being hard and horny that it didn't bother him that his cock was aching. He'd missed his master so much. He focused his attention on feeling his master fucking him, on making all the little noises that he loved. He got a little kiss on the side of his neck that made him smile.

"Master... I love being your doll," Peter sighed. He kept smiling. It felt so good. He could tell master was getting close, was going to fill up his doll with his cum.

It shocked him when Tony gripped his neck tighter and shoved him down. The suddenness of it combined with Tony's assurance that he wouldn’t do it sent Peter into a panic. He forgot all about being good. His body twisted and thrashed, but Tony held him down. His hands pushed against the side of the tub, but he didn’t have the strength to match Tony's. Water burned his nose and eyes. And all the while his master kept on fucking his ass like it was nothing.

Peter was hauled back up and dropped on the floor. He scrambled away from Tony coughing and snorting water. He was so disoriented that he couldn't decide where to move. He eventually huddled against the wall.

He heard master moving around, but he could barely see with the water his wet hands couldn't get out of his eyes. Gripping the back of his head, Tony rubbed a towel against his face. His eyes were carefully dried then he wrapped the towel around Peter shoulders.

Peter blinked away the dry feeling as much as he could. Looking up at his master and his fond smile, he finally started to settle.

"That was fun wasn't it?"

"You said-" Peter coughed. He struggled to pull in a breath for a moment. "You said you wouldn't do that."

Master shrugged. "It's your own fault. You squeeze me so tight when you're scared." He wiped away a drop of water from Peter's face. "I couldn't help myself."

Peter was mad at himself. Mad because he wasn't mad at Tony. Mad because despite his hands shaking, he was willing to let his excuses lie. He didn't argue. He didn't question.

"Master?" he asked.

"Hm?" Tony examined him.

"Can we go to bed now, sir?"


	16. Chapter 16

Peter woke to a growling stomach. He didn't know how long he slept, but he felt starved. Rubbing his hands over his face he sat up in bed. He blushed, looking at the spot where Tony had been laying. Shortly after 'bath time' Peter had broken down sobbing, hands shaking. Master had been so kind as to take him to bed and hold him until he fell asleep. It hadn't been long before the crying stopped mostly thanks to Tony kissing his face and telling him what a good and perfect doll he was. He said he was proud of his doll's obedience.

Peter went to the fridge and grabbed himself a yogurt. He hoped Tony would be down to feed him soon. It just wasn't as nice to eat by himself. He missed licking his master's fingers clean.

After finishing up his small breakfast, the aching of his neglected cock became the next complaint his body had. Peter hadn't cum since before master left. He'd done some much edging and touching only to go soft at the sensation of drowning. He had to sit on his hands to keep from touching himself. Tony had never ordered him not to, but he was certain that if he did he would make himself cum and it was guaranteed that it would make master upset if he didn't get permission first. Or at least, Peter didn't want to give him any excuse to be angry with him. His ass still had a few pink marks that were healing and that hadn't even been a punishment.

He went to the bathroom to clean himself up and comb his hair. He avoided the shower. Just looking at it had him thinking of the feeling of water in his lungs. Then he went out to wait for master.

Peter sat on the end of the bed with a longing in his heart. He missed him terribly. Despite all of the suffering, every second spent without Tony was miserable. Unable to bare it, Peter crawled up the bed and grabbed the pillow Tony had laid on. He buried his face in it, suffocating himself with the smell of him. He stay buried in the pillow until he heard the lock turn in the door.

He jumped up from the bed and ran to the bottom of the stairs. There was Tony. And breakfast! Peter looked at the man and he wondered when sweat pants and a tank top had become so sexy.

"Master! Good morning," Peter smiled.

"Good morning, doll," his master answered. He walked by Peter to set the tray down on the table. He sat down and Peter knelt beside him. Tony pet his hair. Peter closed his eyes, letting the calm his master brought return to his mind.

"Hungry?"

"Yes, sir." Eagerly, Peter took the food that master offered him. He savored the feeling of master's fingers in his mouth. It was all gone way too fast. His belly was full, but he needed more of his master's attention.

"How are you feeling, doll? Breathing okay?"

Peter nodded. "I feel fine, master, thank you."

He received a fond smile that made his whole chest feel warm. "Strong lungs. Hm, and what's this?"  
Master toed at Peter's half hard cock with his bare foot. It was just hard enough to be seen in his shorts.

"All that for breakfast?"

"It's been a while since I came, master. I stayed hard for you while you were gone."

"And you looked so pretty doing it, too."

Peter blushed. "Were you watching me?"

"I'm always watching you. You were such a good boy for me weren't you?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, master."

"I bet you'd really like to cum wouldn't you?" he said. Peter wasn’t oblivious to the gleam in his eye, but wasn't like he would tell his master no either.

"Yes, please."

Master brought him to his feet with a finger under his chin. Then he pulled him into a kiss that made his toes curl.

"Go lay on the bed for me," he said, breath hot against his lips as he pulled away.

"Yes, sir." Peter quickly turned and ran to the bed. He climbed up and laid down on his back.

He chewed his lip, listening to his master's slow footsteps across the floor. He stood over him, eyes deep and dark, his face the most beautiful thing in Peter's world. He shivered when Tony's fingers brushed over his skin to pull off his shorts. Then he reached for his shirt and Peter sat so he could pull it off. Master gave him a quick little kiss before pushing him back down with a hand on his throat.  
With two fingers he touched Peter's aching cock, creating a line of sparks from root to tip.

"Master," he whimpered.

"Touch yourself for me. I want to watch."

Peter's cheeks grew warm. He carefully wrapped his hand around his own aching cock. It was so tempting to immediately strip his cock until he came. He was instantly on edge and had to concentrate so he didn't cum. He sighed as he slowly started to move his hand.

"Stay like that." Master walked away and retrieved something. Then he came back and climbed onto the bed. He sat down with his back against the pillows.

"Come up here and turn around for me. I want to see you work that hole open for me."

Peter turned around to lay with his spread legs facing Tony. Master slid a bottle of lube his way. He squeezed what was probably far too much out onto his hand. Then he reached down to find his hole with one finger. It didn't feel as good as master's cock as he pushed it in. It just made him want more. He whined with frustration and lifted his hips to take it deeper, but his finger was only so big. Without thinking, he pushed in a second finger, then a third. It was enough to stretch him now and he loved the burn of it.

He moaned, squirming on his own fingers. It just wasn't as good as master's cock and it was all he could think about. It would feel so good, so think and hot and perfect inside him.

"Master, please."

"What do you want, doll?"

"I need your cock," he whined.

"Then get up here and suck it. Don't stop fucking that hole either."

It was dizzying trying to move with his fingers in his ass, but he managed to get between his master's legs. He struggled to get his pants down with one hand until master sighed and helped him out. The taste of his cock made him moan. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it. His purpose was to please his master and, often specifically, his cock. He opened his mouth wide and took him down into his throat, saliva flooding his mouth and running down master's shaft. Peter's hips jerked, bucking against the air. Between his master's cock and his fingers he felt like he might cum.

He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing his attention on master's cock. The taste of it, the feel of it, master's moan when he ran his tongue along the vein. It took him a few tries to remember how not to gag, but he'd gotten pretty good at it. He could fuck his own throat without stopping now. Ignoring the pain and the lack of air was just par for the course.

Peter went all the way down and held it in his throat as long as he could, which turned out to be as long as it took for him to see spots in his vision. It was worth it when his master moaned and shoved him right back down, fucking up into his face.

"Fuck, that's my good doll. Perfect little cock sucker. Damn," he groaned. "Such a good toy."

Peter whimpered. He was going to cum. He could barely hold back. It loved it too much, being used and having both his holes fucked, being master's fuck toy. His master let his stop to breathe and he used his breath to beg.

"Please master, I need to cum please, can I cum please master?"

"You love being used don't you? Yeah you know what this mouth is for." He pulled his head up by his hair and slapped his face. Peter moaned, open mouth dripping drool. He couldn't even see straight. "Get back down on it. Let's see you cum from getting your face fucked."

He went back down on master's cock, gurgling spit while master fucked his open mouth.  
"Fucking perfect little fuck toy. I fucking missed these holes. Gonna use you up today, doll. Fuck you stupid."

When master held him down and drilled the back of his throat is when Peter lost it. After edging for so long, he came so hard he thought he might pass out. His body was taunt and his fingers were squeezed out of his hole. And his master just kept using him. He didn't stop until Peter recovered enough to move on his own.

"That's enough, doll. I want to use that ass next. Come up here."

Peter wiped the drool from his chin with the back of his hand. It didn't clean up half the mess. He let master guide him to straddle his hips. His eyes held that excited gleam that spelled trouble. Peter was just glad he wasn't being drowned or beaten. He'd prefer fucked stupid over the other options any day.  
"Sit on my cock, little doll. You got it nice and slicked up didn't you?"

Peter whimpered as he sank down on Tony's cock. It was soaked with his spit and plenty slick, but it was so much more than his skinny little fingers. He needed it inside him so bad that he didn't care about the burning stretch of it.

"Slow down," master said, stopping him sinking all the way down. "Let's not tear you open. You'll ruin my fun."

He whined, but he obeyed. Very slowly, he let himself settle onto Tony's cock, taking him deeper. He paused only when it hurt, letting himself adjust. Then he was finally full of master's cock. Meanwhile, his own was fully hard again.

"That's a good boy." His hands slid up Peter's thighs and lightly held his waist. His thumb brushed over the mark burned into his skin. "Ride me."

Peter lifted up on master's cock and sat back down. Master's hands on his waist guided him.  
"That's it, doll." Master put his hands behind his head, lounging back and getting comfortable.  
Peter put his hands on his chest for balance, trying his best to milk his master's cock with his ass. It was a lot more work than he anticipated and he ended up being the one who needed to cum more than his master did.

"Please master," he whimpered.

He smirked up at him. "Already, doll? But you just came."

"Please, please."

"You were such a good boy while I was gone. I've been thinking that a good obedient doll deserves all the orgasms his body can take." He reached down and wrapped a hand around Peter's cock. "Go on then, fuck my fist while you ride me."

It was so good. So unbelievably good. He couldn't help moving faster, bucking into Tony's hand before pressing back down. It was too good. And all too soon he was cumming into master's hand. Between gasping breaths, master fed him his cum off his fingers. Then he slapped Peter's thigh.

"Well, keep going. I didn’t tell you to stop."

Peter whined. He was far too sensitive. The movement of Tony's cock inside him was overwhelming, bringing tears to his eyes. He obeyed, riding his cock, despite the pain. His fingers clawed at his master's chest as he pushed himself to keep going.

"That's right, baby doll. If you can't make master cum, what are you good for?" His fingers prodded at Peter's drooling mouth and he sucked them in. It was almost calming, but nothing was going to stop the tears, the shuddering sobs. It was too much- far too much. Yet he must not have been going fast enough because Tony's hands clamped around his waist and he took over, fucking up into him. He held on to the man's shoulders, feeling like he might pass out as he drove his cock into him. He gasped and cried into his neck, whole body shaking.

Slowly, the sensitivity grew a little less and his cock started to harden once again. He already hated it. He knew master would make him cum again and he knew it would hurt more and he wanted it to stop, but he was completely helpless.

"Master please, stop," he gasped only to heard the man groan, muscle tensing as he came inside him. He shivered to feel Tony press a kiss to his neck and lifted his face to let him kiss him.

"You're all hard again, doll. Ready for more?"

"No, please," he whimper.

Master shushed him. "Don't worry, little doll. All these pretty little doll parts belong to me don't they?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, master."

"So then I must know what to do with them, right?"

He could only sob, oversensitive body shaking. Tony laid him down on his back and kissed away his tears.

"Pretty little thing," he cooed. "Let's see you cum again."

"Master- please no."

Tony slapped him hard enough to shock him. He stared with wide eyes and an aching cheek.

"If I hear that word again, I'll leave you gagged and bound in your cage overnight. Understand me?"

Peter nodded. "I'm sorry, master."

"Now, lay still for me."

Peter shivered as his hands slid over his skin. He concentrated on laying still. He bit his lip, trying to be good as Tony pressed two fingers inside his hole. He whined as he moved them in and out.

"Look at this sloppy, wet, hole. I wonder how much we can fit in here."

Master pushed in a third finger. Peter couldn't stop his legs from shaking. His fingers twisted and clung to the bedding. A fourth finger pushed in. Peter whined. He was too sensitive and too full and it was too much to be rubbing around inside him and stretching him open.

"How's that feel, doll?"

"It's too much, master," he whined.

"No, it's not. Your hole is just swallowing up my hand. I think it wants all of it. What do you think?"

He didn't want to be bad and upset his master. He knew he was supposed to agree. "Yes, master. I want it all inside me," he whined, afraid.

"I'm going to make you cum on my fist," he grinned. He slid his hand out and squeezed a healthy glob of lube onto his fingers. "Deep breath for me, little toy."

He slowly worked all five fingers inside. The width of his hand made Peter whine, hole stretching wide. All he wanted was to bare down and force it back out. Then it was in and as master curled his fingers slowly into a fist, Peter found his knuckles pressing against his prostate.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, doll?" He smirked.

Peter could only moan. Master's fist inside him felt so big and so good. He tried to move, but Peter was squeezing him so tight that he couldn't get anywhere. The man laughed.

"Look at you. I thought you didn't want it."

"Feels so good, master. So good."

"Yeah? Are you gonna cum for me again?"

"Yes, master! Please, I wanna cum for you." The sensitivity was overwhelming, but so was his need to cum. He chewed his lip, fighting his impulse to touch himself, being his master's good doll.

"So pretty... I love watching you squirm. I bet I don't need to touch your cock. You're going to cum anyway aren't you?"

"Yes, master, please! Can I?"

"Yeah, little doll, let's see you cum on my fist."

Tears burned in his eyes and he screamed. He clenched down so hard on Tony's fist that it should have hurt, but he couldn't feel it, he was cumming too hard. His body shook, tingling with overstimulation. It was a great relief when Tony carefully slipped his hand back out.

"Good doll, that's it sweetheart," master cooed. He kissed Peter's forehead. "Rest for a minute, baby doll."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **We'll start to see more of Tony's backstory from here and I felt the need to jump in and say no, this is not a justification for Tony's behavior and no I didn't write some 'tragic backstory' for the sake of redeeming Tony. Tony and I are both very aware that our pasts do not excuse the choices we make <3
> 
> Anyway, Tony is a bad dude, but a somewhat sympathetic bad dude and that's okay.

His pretty little doll was exhausted and spent. For now at least. Tony went and started a shower for them both, giving a moment for the water to warm up. He watched from the doorway as Peter rested. He laid back on the bed, head not quite falling off the edge. Oddly enough, he'd looked more afraid of him than he ever had before. It was cute. As if too many orgasms or a fist in his ass was the worst thing he'd ever given him.

He walked to the bed and got his attention with a light tug of his hair. Peter blinked his eyes open. There was that smile. The one that made Tony's heart flutter. His impulse was to slap it off his face, but he didn’t. He pet his cheek instead and enjoyed the softness of it.

"Let's get cleaned up."

"Yes, master." He kissed the hand on his cheek. Adoring and obedient had become his default. It was as if he'd forgotten the tears on his cheeks and the burn of his stretched ass. Such a perfect toy. He couldn't resist scooping the boy up in his arms and carrying him into the bathroom.

He let Peter step into the tub on his own, unwanting to frighten him, but delighting in knowing that he could. He stepped in behind him and watched the water run down his pale skin. Tony wrapped his hands around his waist and licked away the water from his neck. The little thing looked so content. He trembled a bit under his hands, clearly nervous under the water. Yet, he almost looked happy.

He washed him up quickly, excited for what he had planned for the day.

He dried Peter off, making sure his hair was as dry as he could get it. There was a breeze outside and it wouldn't do for him to get sick. He wrapped him up in a long sleeve shirt and a pair of warm leggings. He looked so soft and sweet. Tony could admit that the one thing he didn't know was why that made him feel so violent. Soft and sweet, staring at him with wide doe eyes. He could just slap him. But he liked the way that Peter ached for his attention. He liked how much Peter needed and adored him. He wouldn't like it if he started flinching and cowering away. Violence would continue to be reserved for sex or training. So that Peter could keep smiling at him.

He scratched the itch by roughing up Peter's hair and tugging on the strands. Peter wrinkled his nose, but then he made the most delightful sound. A giggle. It was almost as sweet as when he cried.

\---------

Peter wasn’t sure what brought it on, but immediately after dressing him master pulled him in close and kissed him breathless. Now his hair was messy and his lips were kiss swollen and he must have looked freshly fucked. Not that he cared what he looked like as long as master was happy. He felt like he was walking on air as Tony lead him by the hand up the stairs and out of the basement.

The sunlight was too bright for his eyes. He squeezed them shut and stood cowering away from the windows.

"It's alright, doll. Just give it a moment." A gentle hand touched his shoulder. "I'll be right back. You stay here."

Master's footsteps moved away. Peter stayed, leaning against the wall as he waited for the world to stop being red. Then master came back and he slowly opened his eyes. He winced at first, but this time it wasn't so bad. His master smiled and made it all worth it.

"Come here, doll." He held up Peter's collar. Just the sight of it made his heart soar.

"Am I staying with you today, master?" He stepped forward and let Tony snap the collar closed around his neck. It was cozy like a hug.

"That's right. I wanted to show you something. I made something for you."

"Something for me?" Warm tingles spread all the way down to his toes. A smile grew on his face.

Master smiled back, taking his hand again. "Yep. It's outside."

"What about the collar?"

"We aren't going far. It won't hurt you this close to the house."

Master took him out the front door. It was warm outside, with a comfortable breeze. Peter soaked up the smell of dirt and plant life. There was a new stone path leading from the front porch to a fenced in area in the front yard. Tony lead him down the path and opened the gate.

Inside was an array of flowering plants in every possible color. Peter reached out to touch the fluffy flowers of a hydrangea

"It's so beautiful," he said.

"I thought this could be your garden," master said. Peter stared in surprise. "It'll be a lot of responsibility. You'll have to come out here every day to check for weeds, make sure everything gets enough water. Think you can handle it?"

Peter nodded. Then he threw his arms around him. "Yes, master. Thank you so much! I love it."

"You're never to go outside without asking, though. We clear?"

Peter nodded again. "Yes, sir." He felt like he was in a dream. Everything was so perfect. His master kissed his lips and he melted. It felt like the ending to a fairy-tale.

They stayed outside, enjoying the sun together until lunch time. Peter was reluctant to go back in, but master promised he could visit the garden again tomorrow.

Inside the house, master asked him to take off his clothes and climb up on the dining table. He sat still and quiet, anxious, as Tony tied him up ankles to calves and wrists to ankles.

"Let's play a game," master said. "It's called 'how many times can a slutty little doll cum before lunch is ready'."

Peter pouted. He'd already been made to cum so many times.

"Don't be like that," master cooed. His fingers trailed down Peter's chest. Like magic his body responded, sending his blood running south. His hand wrapped around his cock, encouraging him to get hard.

"Master," he whimpered, a slave to his master's whims. A perfect toy. His body was so easily coaxed into arousal.

"That's a good boy," he smiled. His hand slid up Peter's chest and grabbed his throat. "I don't play enough with these nipples." He took one in his mouth and sucked until Peter whined. Then he trailed his finger around it. He pinched and then twisted and the pain made his eyes squeeze shut and his nose wrinkle.

"You make the cutest faces," master whispered. He pressed their lips together. Peter happily sighed and his master's tongue slipped past his lips. Just being kissed by him was enough to get him excited and he knew his cock was getting really hard now. His mouth only ached for more when master let him go. He walked away to retrieve a box from the cupboard like the once downstairs.

"You keep toys in the kitchen?"

Tony smirked. "Where else would I keep them?"

First was a gag for his mouth. It was a ball gag that was on the side of too large and opened his mouth embarrassingly wide. Then there was two little bullet vibrators. A soft rubber band held one against the base of his cock, snug against his balls. The other sat under the head. Peter wasn’t sure about the situation. Then master turned on the toys.

He moaned, going cross-eyed. Spit dripped down his chin. The most delicious vibrations traveled up and down his cock and through his balls and he was pretty sure he was going to cum already.

\----------

Some people like to cook with the radio on. Tony thought this was far better. Peter drooled and moaned, making all the sweet music he needed. That gag in his mouth was big enough that it should have been humiliating, but only managed to look debauched. His hips jerked with the little pulses of the toy. Tony had to keep an eye on him just to make sure he didn't fall off the table. He should have put him on the floor, but he liked him better up on the table where he was on display.

Sometimes Tony could barely remember what he used to do for fun before Peter. He knew there had been parties and bars, but they seemed so boring now. Peter was all the entertainment he needed. All the stress relief.

He leaned against the counter, stirring a bowl, as he watched his doll. He enjoyed the sound of needy whining and the wet sucking of Peter's mouth around the gag. He was getting hard watching him. He considered putting lunch on hold, but no, he could fuck him after. He could fuck him whenever he wanted, how ever he wanted. He was a fucking genius for doing all of this. It had been heaps of work, but Tony liked work. He liked thinking, liked putting things together and taking them apart. It was why he liked Peter so much. He built him into a perfect doll, but the boy had such a strong mind that he could take him apart as much as he wanted and the pieces would just fit back together. As long he remembered where to draw the lines.

Tony hated to think about the people before Peter. The ones that hadn't come back together after taking them apart. Sometimes, he even had the decency to feel guilty about it. In a way, Peter had saved him. He'd saved him from the pain and frustration of fucking up again.

He put down the bowl on the counter to get his hands on Peter. He watched his eyes open and try to focus on his face. He was too overwhelmed.

"Let's see you cum, doll," he said. Peter shivered in his hands. He moaned, biting down into the gag. Just like that he was cumming. He didn't even have to train him to do that. He'd just become so fucking obedient.

Didn't turn off the vibrators as his orgasm faded. In fact, he wrapped his fingers around the end of his cock, teasing the sensitive head. The sweet little thing screamed through his gag hitting Tony with the sweetest rush of dopamine. He could watch him like this for hours, squirming, screaming, crying, from overstimulation. It was cute how he tried to plead with his eyes. As if Tony had any mercy for him. Today's game was to see if he could make Peter cum until he passed out. If he tortured him in between orgasms, well who could tell him no. Not Peter, unless he wanted to be punished. Maybe he should push him to be disobedient. Or maybe he should just spank him anyway. No, his ass deserved a bit longer of a break after that beating. Just remembering how he screamed then made Tony glad he'd taken to wearing sweat pants.

He went back to making lunch as Peter settled down, his nerves finally calming. He put the pan in the oven just as his little whimpers became those sweet, needy, whines once again. Tony sighed, cupping Peter's face and kissing his cheek.

"My little doll..." he said. "Gonna cum again for me?"

Peter whimpered. He turned his head away.

"Don't want to? That's too bad," he caught his chin and turned his head back so he could look at those eyes all shiny with tears. "I'm going to make you."

He looked at his cock, standing up hard and turning an irritated red. He pulled off the vibrator from the end. Peter whined in response. Tony smiled. Then he bent down and took him into his mouth. He could hear Peter calling out 'master' through his gag. He loved the way he screamed when it was too much. He was still so sensitive, but the next orgasm was building up inspite of it. Tony could tell by the sounds he made. His mouth must have felt like heaven and hell.

Eventually he lost the fight and he came into Tony's mouth. Of course, he let the vibrator keep running even as he took away his mouth. Peter shook and cried. He begged through the gag. Tony took it out of his mouth and pressed their lips together. He fed Peter his own cum, pushing it into his mouth with his tongue. He obediently swallowed it all down and sat whimpering as Tony kissed him.

The timer went off behind him. "Saved by the bell," he said. Then he turned off the toy. Peter sighed with clear relief and relaxed into the table.

Tony pulled the food from the oven and set it aside to cool. Then he went to Peter, hands roaming over his skin as he untied him. Despite the loss of the toy, his legs still shook. Tony helped him down and into a chair.

"Thank you, master," he said, always perfect and polite. Tony kissed his forehead.

Tony let him sit on his lap while they ate. He groaned every time Peter squirmed, plump ass grinding against his cock. Still, he insisted on cleaning the plate, feeding himself and Peter every last bite. He wanted to save it up for later. Later when he could fuck him hard and rough and make him cry just from his cock.

\----------

His master was cruel and he loved him terribly. Maybe he was becoming a masochist. Maybe he was addicted to the attention. He didn't know. After lunch, he'd taken a nap, head resting in his master's lap. He didn't know how long it had been, but he woke up to his master stroking his doll's bare cock.  
"Master?" he yawned, stretching his back.

"Have a nice rest, doll?"

Peter smiled. He opened his eyes to see his master watching him. "Yes, master, thank you."

"Come here, baby doll."

Peter climbed up onto to Tony's lap and his arms settled around him. He could feel how hard his master was under his ass. Just the thought of his hard cock made him want it. He rubbed his ass against it.

"Think you can tease me, huh?" Tony nosed against his jaw and kissed his neck.

"I want you to fuck me, master."

He bit down on Peter's neck. The sudden pain made him squeal. Master held him tighter as if he might try to run.

"When did you get to be such a little minx?" His voice was so deep and gravely that it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

"I only want to make you happy."

Master stood, keeping him in his arms. Peter squeezed his thighs tight around him. He pressed kisses into the man's neck as he carried him to the bedroom.

His back hit the bed and his master's lips crushed against his. His kiss was hard and biting. Peter could hardly keep up. He was so dizzy from kissing that he missed the part where master's clothes came off, but then his body was pressed against his own and nothing mattered except for where they were touching.

Master rolled his hips and their cocks rubbed together. Grinding down against him, it was just enough friction. Master's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until he couldn't breath. He kept kissing him while Peter gasped. Then his master found his hand and tangled their fingers together. It was too perfect, feeling his body struggle to breathe, to live, while his master held him so sweetly.

Peter whined, pressing his hips up to push back against Tony's. His head was starting to feel light. His eye lids fluttered. He fought to keep his eyes open so he could see his master's beautiful face. When he couldn't anymore, master let him go, slapping him back into awareness. Peter gasped and then moaned, pleasure washing over him as air filled his lungs again.

"Master!" he gasped.

"Does my toy like that?" He watched his face with eyes that glittered in the light.

"Yes, sir! Feels so-"

Master choked him again, cutting off his words. He kissed a line down his cheek before kissing his gaping mouth. They both moaned when he licked inside. Peter felt wet against his stomach and he couldn't tell if it was his own precum or his master's. He was hard enough to ache for it, though. He'd already cum so many times, but his body couldn't help responding to his master's touch.

"You look so pretty like that, doll," master said. He kissed away the tears from his cheek. Then he let go of his throat. "My good doll. So perfect."

His lips sucked deep bruises into his skin. The pain of it had him clinging to his master with both his hands and his thighs. He gasped at the hard, sucking, pressure. He moaned when master rubbed their cocks together.

Then he pulled away, reaching for the bottle of lube. "Turn around," he said.

Peter rolled onto his hands and knees. He arched his back, pushing his ass up. His toes curled to feel the weight of master's cock slap against his ass. Hands spread open his ass cheeks.

"You're all loose from this morning, you know that? Your hole looks hungry." His thumb pressed inside. Peter squeezed around it.

"Please fuck me, master," he begged. He wanted it bad. He missed the feeling of being filled and used.  
Master slipped the head of his cock in, but it wasn't enough. "Back up on, doll. Take it all in."

Peter pressed back, going way too fast and not caring that it was a lot at once. Despite taking master's fist, it still felt just as big as it always did.

"That's a good doll," he praised. "Fuck yourself on my cock."

Peter rocked himself forward and back. His eyes fell closed, enjoying his master's cock. Master slapped his ass and he moaned. He grabbed his hair and it didn't deter him from his job even when it pulled. He didn't like the pain, but he loved being a good doll for his master.

"I bet you've got another orgasm in you," master said. Peter whined. He really didn't. He wasn't even sure if he could. He was barely even hard. Then master's hand touched his cock. He felt himself twitch, if half-heartedly.

"Come on, doll. Just one more. Be a good toy."

He wanted to beg him not to, but he knew it wouldn't help. Between master's cock inside him and his hand stroking him, he didn't eventually get hard again, much to his own displeasure. It felt wrong and not good, but there it was building up inside him.

"Such a good little fuck. So obedient," master cooed. "Let's see you cum. I know you can do it. Cum on master's dick."

Peter whined, he didn't want to, but of course he obeyed. His orgasm was small and his cock only dribbled a small amount of fluid. It was cruel, since there was no real pleasure behind it but it left him just as sensitive. He knew better than to stop fucking himself. He whined through the sensitivity of it, but his master moaned in response and made it all worth it.

"You're such a good doll, been so good for me," he said. His hand gripped Peter's hips, taking over. "Gonna fill your ass up with my cum, fuck, and then I think I'll do it again. How's that sound? What if I fuck you until you pass out?"

"Anything for you master," Peter panted, out of breath as master pounded his ass. "Anything you want."

"My doll. My perfect doll. Perfect little cock hole." He groaned, cumming in Peter's ass. He kissed his neck, releasing the bruising grip on his hips.

He pulled out and turned Peter over, kissing his mouth. His hand squeezed around his throat. Peter sobbed when his hand touched his raw cock.

"Think you got one more in you?" master smirked. "Just one more."

"You said that the last time," Peter complained.

"Oh, poor doll." His hand slid down to his ass. A finger slipped into his hole. It curled in and Peter's breath caught when he found his prostate. Master grinned like a shark. "Let's just milk it all out. Make sure there's nothing left."

Peter whined. He could feel it, pressure building in his balls. Not a lot and not very quickly, but with master's finger rubbing his prostate, his body couldn't refuse. He chewed his lip and tried not to squirm. He sobbed, body going taunt as he came again. Even less leaked out of his cock this time. 

"Look at that. Your poor little cock." Peter yelped as master stroked him. "It's going to be fun for me to fuck you when you can't enjoy it. I bet it'll even hurt when you feel me rubbing against your poor prostate."

He kissed him, like he'd said something sweet, like he was being kind.

"Beg me for my cock, doll."

"Please, master," he said without hesitation. "Fuck me please. Please use your doll."

He kissed him, tongue invading his mouth, hand around his neck. Master cut off his air until he felt dizzy. He left him breathe for a moment, then he did it again, this time slapping Peter awake when he almost lost it.

They kept going like that, alternating between rounds of kissing, choking, and slapping. Until master was hard again. He pushed back into Peter's slick hole, bending a leg back against his chest. With a hand on his throat, he pounded into him. Peter whimpered with every thrust, hole so sore and abused that it was painful. He couldn't get hard anymore, his cock was spent. But he loved it anyway. This was what his body was meant for.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter contains references to childhood sexual abuse

Peter woke gently, a smile already growing on his lips. Everything around him smelled like master. He turned and buried his face in the pillow for a moment. He couldn't remember ever feeling happier.

He was alone so he carried himself into the en suite to clean up and get ready. Looking in the mirror, his fingers traced the pink and purple marks on his neck that master had made. He looked like quite the well loved sex doll between the hickies and the collar. He even noticed a bruise forming around his wrist. Master's doll. He felt claimed all over.

After the bathroom, he went back to the bedroom to find something to wear. He wondered if master even wanted him dressed. His clothes from yesterday were dirty, but he thought he remembered which drawer had his clothes in them. Would master be angry if he opened it? He couldn't risk it.

Before he could leave the room, he spotted master's shirt on the floor. It had been tossed aside and landed half under the dresser. Peter picked it up and brought it to his face. It smelled like master's skin making him shiver all the way down to his toes. He pulled it over his head. It wasn’t quite enough to cover him, most of his ass was hanging out, but it was more comfortable than being naked and it wrapped him in his master's scent.

He left the bedroom in search of master. The smell of breakfast cooking caught his nose so he followed it into the kitchen. He looked at the dinette where he would be expected to kneel, but decided against it. Master was standing at the stove and he needed to be close to him.

"Good morning, master!" Peter greeted, quickly crossing the cold tile floor. He wrapped his arms around Tony's waist and buried his face in his side. After a pause, an arm wrapped around him.

"Good morning, my doll." Tony kissed the top of his head. "Hungry?"

Peter nodded. He straightened up to see his master's face and was pleased to find him smiling. "Yes, sir."

He was so happy when master let him stay by his side as he finished cooking. Then they sat at the table, with Peter on the floor, and he ate every bite his master fed him. Master worked on something at his computer while Peter laid in his lap. It was such a perfect, lazy, morning that Peter couldn't stop smiling.

It didn't escape his master's attention. "What are you so happy about, doll?"

"I'm with my master," Peter said, only smiling wider. He closed his eyes as master pet his hair.

"We're going to trim this today."

"Yes, sir."

"And we'll spend some time outside as well."

"I would love that, master. Thank you!"

He looked up at Tony's smile. Peter was smiling so much that his face hurt. How could everything be so happy and perfect?

The sun was warm on his face as he sat outside. Peter liked the sound of the scissors snipping. It was nostalgic somehow. He sat back with his eyes closed, trying to be good while Tony trimmed his hair. It was such a beautiful day. He was dying to get his bare feet in the grass, but master said he wanted to cut his hair first so he sat and he waited patiently. Master wouldn't be pleased if he messed it up. It took a long time, but at least it was time spent with his master.

"There. All done. How's it feel?"

Peter shook his hair out, shaking loose cut pieces and feeling the lighter weight. He laughed. "It feels so different. How much did you cut?"

His hair had been down to his shoulders when wet, now it seemed like most of it was on the ground. He touched it and it seemed to be just as long as he was used to instead of hanging down to his shoulders. No more shaggy Peter.

"Thank you, master!" He gave his master a quick hug.

Tony chuckled. "Go enjoy the garden. Get some sun."

Peter ran down the steps and into the grass. The smell of earth floated up around him. Growing up in the city, nature had felt like such a luxury. It was all just a part of this messed up fairy tale now. He was happy, birds were chirping, and he didn't want to think too much about how he got here because it made his chest feel tight.

He forgot about all of that when master leaned over the fence and smiled at him.

"Doll?"

"Yes, master?" Peter smiled back. His heart fluttered in his chest. He could just imagine his master leaning over the fence to kiss him.

"I have something I need to go work on. You stay here in the garden until I come back for you."

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll miss you."

"Be good for me, doll," he said.

Peter watched him walk away. He followed the little stone path and walked up the steps. Then he disappeared inside the house. Peter sighed, missing him already, but being alone in the garden was so much nicer than being alone in the basement.

There was a wooden crate that held a few garden tools. A pair of thick gloves and a trowel. Beside it was a watering can. He didn't think the flowers needed any water, but he liked the idea of watering them. The watering can was already full so he carried it around the square, watering the plants. It felt nice, like he was doing something that mattered. It was why he liked his plants in the basement so much. Master was so smart to give him something to take care of. It made him feel so much calmer. He didn't notice his hands shaking as much as they used to.

He set the watering can down when he was done. Master was still inside, but he couldn't see him through the window. Anxiety struck him, but he was sure Tony would come back for him. It hadn't been very long after all. Then he heard a strange noise. Well, a familiar noise, but one he hadn’t heard in a long time. Tires on gravel.

"Master!" Peter called. "Master!" He looked anxiously toward the house. He didn't know what he should do. It didn't seem good to let anyone see him. He wasn't sure what they might think. So he ducked down and hid behind the hydrangeas.

The vehicle stopped in front of the house. Then the door opened and someone stepped out. "Tony?" they called.

Peter peeked over the bush. The man was older, balding, with a white beard. He had a round belly and he dressed a lot like a business man. Like how he used to see Tony dress. Maybe this man worked with him.

"Tony? You out here?" he called again. He went up the steps and looked in the windows, but he didn’t knock. Instead, he looked over each shoulder before walking back down the steps and starting around the other side. Was he breaking in?

Then man looked again over his shoulder and his eyes met Peter's. Ice shot through him and he ducked down again. Footsteps crunched closer, then the gate to the garden swung open. A shadow fell over him. Then he man stepped into his line of sight.

"What do we have here?" He looked Peter up and down as he slowly stood. He backed away, not trusting the look in his eye. He stopped only when his back hit the fence. "Who might you be?"  
"I... uh..." Doll. He was master's doll. But who was this man and should he even be talking to him? Peter knew he shouldn't be there. Master wouldn't have left him out in the garden if he knew he was coming. 

"Come here, sweetheart." He offered his hand. Peter shook his head, refusing the hand, but he came a bit closer as the man stepped back, coming out from behind the bush.

"Hmm," he looked him over again. He shifted on his feet to widen his stance and his hands went to his hips. "No wonder Tony doesn't come home. Why would he when he's got such a pretty young thing hiding out here. Would ya look at that collar... What kind of nasty things does Tony do to you, huh?"

Tony? The word confused him for a moment. It's been a long time since Peter thought of him as Tony. There was a time before now... when there was no 'master'. There was only Tony Stark, CEO of a company where Peter interned... back when there was no 'doll'. Only Peter... Peter Parker...

He swayed on his feet and the world began to spin. Fear turned his blood cold and twisted his stomach into a knot. He dragged in a breath and it cut his throat like broken glass and left him choking.

"Master," he sobbed. The man caught him before he could fall to his knees. He smelled disgusting, like sweat and cigarettes. He wasn’t master. It wasn’t right for this man to touch him. It was dirty and gross and wrong.

"Master? Is that what Tony makes you call him?" He chuckled. "He fucked you up good didn’t he, kid? Bet you're just as fucked up as he is."

The man snapped his fingers and Peter flinched but he couldn't get his eyes to focus. He thought he might throw up.

"Huh... you don't hear what I'm saying do you." A hand stroked his cheek and he shuddered, repulsed. "I came here looking for something I could use to... well, what do you care? You're just another one of his toys. I wouldn't be surprised if you were made of metal, too. Bet he won't even mind if you go missing."

The hands on his arms, pulled him forward a step. Then another. As they walked through the gate, Peter's mind caught up with what was happening.

"No! No! You can't take me away. You can't make me leave!" Peter glared at the man. He dug his heals into the dirt.

"Come on now, before he sees us. Get in the truck!"

"No!" Peter screamed. He ripped one arm free and lashed out. His nails tore through skin and he fell back as he was let go.

"You fucking bitch!" He screamed. He stumbled forward, holding his bleeding cheek.

Peter scrambled to his feet. Then he ran.

He didn't know where he was going. He wanted to run back to his basement where it was safe, but he didn't think he could get past the man and into the house. So he ran for the woods. He heard the man somewhere behind him so he kept going. He was out of breath fast, but he was so used to burning lungs that he ignored it, pushing through the pain.

When he looked back, he couldn't see the man behind him, but he could hear him swearing. He kept going. He had to get away. He couldn't let this grimy, offensive, man touch master's doll. He couldn't let him take him away.

Pain crackled under his skin and around his neck. Peter gasped, hands reaching for his collar.

"No! No, please," he whimpered. The man was still coming. He needed to run. But with every third step, the collar went off again. After several sharp jolts, he collapsed to his knees. He looked around for somewhere to hide. There was a large tree nearby and he crawled for it. The collar kept shocking him, but he held on, clawing his way forward. He climbed over a large root and huddled on the other side. He pulled an arm full of dead leaves over himself, but the shocks from the collar jostled them. He fought to be still. The collar stopped after a moment. He rested, catching his breath. Then he heard footsteps.

Peter covered his mouth and held stone still. Swearing, the man walked right by him. He was safe. Just when he moved to come out, the collar went off again, but this time it was too strong and he passed out.

\-----------

Blue lights danced around the display. They came together to take the shape of Tony's latest weapon. He didn't know why he still designed things like this. He never gave them to the technicians at SI anymore. They were too dangerous. Maybe he just liked imaging all the damage they could do, all the carnage. Violence made him feel in control. Probably because he was usually the cause of it. It had never bothered him before, but he never used to have nightmares about it either. But the nightmare he'd had only last night... if Peter hadn't been lying there when he woke up, he would have spent the morning in a panic attack. He might have wasted the day and broke his promise to let Peter visit the garden. That shouldn't bother him, but it did. It shouldn't bother him to dream of killing Peter either. He shouldn't consider those kinds of dreams to be nightmares.

When his smart watch went off, Tony thought for a moment that he'd fallen back into his nightmare.

Peter's collar had triggered.

His doll had left the safe range.

Peter was running away.

The collar went off again and Tony bit down on his own tongue just to taste the blood.

No.

No.

No.

He had worked so hard. He made everything so perfect. Why now? Why after everything? He'd grown so... not 'kind', but he was more considerate than he'd ever been. But it wasn't enough was it? Nothing would ever make Peter love him.

Love?

No, he didn't want Peter's love. Love fades. He liked when Peter needed him, obsessed over him. That's what he wanted.

He'd been such a good doll. So obedient. What would make him run now?

The collar went off again. He was still running. He watched as the shocks started to come faster and faster. He waited for the collar to stop. Waited for Peter's heart rate to stabilize. For his world to stop threatening to shatter.

He wanted to be angry, but all he felt was defeat. What mistake had he made and where? Was it too late to correct it? What if he couldn't keep Peter? What if he...

He needed to go find him.

Tony shut down the computer and left the workshop. He walked around to the front of the house. A big white truck was parked in the driveway. Obediah Stane's truck.

He marched to the end of the driveway and looked around. There was no sign of Obediah. No sign of Peter. The gate to the garden was open. It wasn’t hard for Tony to piece together what happened. Obi came looking for Tony, spotted Peter in the garden, and then... Undoubtedly, he had intended to take him. The way he always took from Tony. Peter knew better and he ran. Tony breathed in, eyes falling shut in relief. Peter was a good boy. So good for his master that he would cause himself pain to escape Obediah.

It didn't matter now what Obi had come for. He couldn't leave after seeing Peter.

Tony went into the house. In the coat closet was a metal box of devices. He took one out and wrapped his palm around it. Checking to make sure Obediah hadn't come back, he opened the driver's side door. He leaned in and attached the device underneath the dash. He closed the door and turned around in time to see Obediah coming from the woods.

Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his anxiety. "What are you doing here?"

"Tony!" Obediah grinned. He pulled Tony into a hug and didn't seem to care when the man didn’t reciprocate. He took a step back and looked him over.

Tony could see three red lines on his face. A scratch. Peter must have attacked him. Good boy.

"Well, I came up to see what genius project was keeping you away." You mean you came to steal it, Tony thought. "Looks like I found it." He raised an eyebrow. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he took a deep breath. As if what he was going to say was difficult. As if he possessed any empathy. 

"Let me guess. When Colonel Rhodes died you snapped, is that it? I'm sorry, Tony." His frowning, pitying, face made Tony's skin crawl. "I know he meant a lot to you. But men like us, that's our curse. People we love are always going to leave. They die or they disappear... they just can't handle our genius."

Tony grit his teeth. He didn't want to talk about what kind of men they were. "I don't make excuses for myself anymore."

"No. I don't suppose you have to either." Obi snorted, gesturing off towards the woods. "He sure ain't judging you. You brainwashed that kid real good. How old is he anyway? Fifteen?"

"He's not a kid. He's older than he looks. I'm not that depraved."

"No," Obediah smirked. "Because you're better than me. Always have been. Even when I cleaned up your messes. Even when I was there making sure your father's legacy didn't crash and burn while you were out partying. I would have been a lot less surprised to you find you in that cabin, dead on the floor with a needle-"

Tony grabbed him and slammed him back against the side of his truck. He looked stunned. Obediah was probably the only person who had never been on the receiving end of Tony's violence. Yet he was the one who deserved it the most. Tony would never forget that.

"Get in the truck, Obi. Don't come back here."

He nodded and Tony let him go. "Don't ask me to clean this one up when you kill the kid. Or when he escapes. You're on your own, Tones."

His body vibrated with rage. Hands clenched into fists, he stepped back, away from the truck. He can't do this here. Not now. Wait... just a little longer.

Obediah didn't look at him as he started the truck. He held his breath and waited. For him to back down the driveway. 

He listened to the truck back down the long driveway, even as it twisted out of view, then it took off down the road none too carefully. Tony smirked. He'd scared him. Good. He deserved worse. And in half an hour or so, he'd get it.

Tony sat down on the front steps. He watched the little red dot move along the road on his cell phone screen. When it was in the right spot, he triggered the device. The little red dot started to move too fast. Then it left the road all together. Tony got into his truck.

He found the place where Obediah went off the road. He drove past it for half a mile, then back tracked on foot through the woods. The mountain was steep here and he had to move carefully to keep from slipping. The headlights were still shining on Obi's truck, making it easier to find. It had crashed into one impressively thick tree. The front end of the truck was totaled. As he got closer he could see the engine. The tree had forced the engine of the truck through the shell and into Obediah's lap. His body was crushed against it. He had died with his eyes open, coughing up blood.

Tony walked around the truck and pulled open the passenger side door. There wasn't a lot of room with the engine and its components laying in the cab but after groping around in the dark for a while, Tony found his device crushed against Obediah's knee. It was damaged, but it wasn't missing any pieces. He dropped the bottle of bourbon he'd brought with him onto the floor board and let it spill. Just to be safe, he lit a match.

The light from the fire lit his way back up the incline. He drove back up to the house. The night air was becoming fridged. What was moisture during the day felt like ice now. Tony grabbed a blanket from the house along with a flash light. Then he set out to find Peter.

He used his watch to follow the tracker in his collar. It was hard to move quickly here, where the trees were dense, but he did his best. He wanted to get to Peter before he got sick. He was half naked for fuck's sake. He wished he'd left Obediah alive so he could beat the shit out of him for every time the boy sneezed tomorrow.

He found the right spot on the tracker, but he didn't see Peter. Not right away. When he felt the collar fire up, he must have tried to hide himself. Tony wondered what he'd thought of Obediah and what the man might have said to him to make him run away.

Peter was skinny enough now that he could tuck himself behind a large tree root and not be seen. It looked like he'd tried to cover himself with some leaves, but the collar would have made it impossible for him to be still. No wonder Obediah couldn't find him, though. In the dark, he just looked like part of the tree. The sun had already been low when the collar first went off.

Tony knelt in front of him and covered him with the blanket. Then he hauled him up into his arms. The smell of his hair soothed him. Peter was okay. His doll was safe. No one knew about them here. No one was coming to try to take him.

He spent the walk back to the house weighing his options. He'd felt confident that Peter would never be found out here, but Obediah had crushed that sense of safety. It was unlikely anyone else would come out here, but what if they did. What if they made it through the gate somehow or hopped the fence. Obediah always eventually figured out his codes, but no one else would. Still... just what if.

He tucked Peter into bed and laid down beside him, watching him breathe. He was haunted by what Obediah said about cleaning up his 'messes'. It was true. Too true. Tony had killed people, hurt people. Bodies had to be disposed of. People had to be paid off. Something about sex triggered violent episodes in him. In fact, Peter was the first sexual partner he'd had that he could fuck without trying kill. Even when he got violent, he always held back. When he'd first seen Peter, he'd felt something different. It wasn’t the same violent lust. Of course, it was nothing like falling in love. Tony would never give himself that much credit. He knew he was a monster.

He'd tried for a while to be abstinent. That's when he'd turned to drugs. Pepper had threatened to have him put in a hospital. He'd almost strangled her. It turned out, sex wasn't his only trigger. It was people getting too close.

It wasn't hard to trace it all back to Obediah and further back to his father. The people he trusted the most always hurt him the most. They beat him. They raped him. They told him everything would be okay only to tragically die and leave him alone.

Peter was supposed to protect him from all of that. And protect the world from him. As long as he stayed in the cabin and got what he needed from Peter, he wouldn't hurt anyone. As long as Peter was a mindless doll for him to break and rebuild, he wouldn't snap.

Obediah had come to the cabin before and managed to get away with some of Tony's tech. Tony figured it made him feel superior. As if he still had Tony under his control. At least now he was gone and that little bit of childish fear was soothed in the back of his mind. He should have done that ages ago.

Maybe with Obediah gone, he could start to recover. Maybe with Peter around, things would be fine.

He needed to find a new way to keep him safe. The cabin was tainted now.


	19. Chapter 19

His whole body hurt. It was that kind of muscle deep ache that makes you want to stretch, but it doesn't help. He groaned and shifted around in the bed. It was only his aching bladder that made him open his eyes.

Peter sat up and groaned. He felt terrible. He pouted to find himself alone in Tony's bed. He wanted his master to hold him, reassure him that everything was fine and no one was going to take him away.

That's right. He remembered now. Someone had come to the house and tried to kidnap him.

Peter felt his neck and found his collar missing. It felt wrong. He felt naked. For a moment he worried what it meant that master had taken it off, but he was probably just worried after it had shocked him.

He dragged his tired feet to the bathroom to relieve himself. His reflection in the mirror was terrible. His eyes were dark. There were marks on his neck where the collar shocked him. He was still wearing Tony's shirt, legs bare. He found a scratch under his knee where he must have scraped it in the woods. The whole thing felt confusing and blurry.

He went back to the bedroom and tried to go find his master, but the bedroom door was locked. He took the hint that he was meant to stay put and went and laid back down. He hated the cold empty bed, but the pillows smelled so much like Tony. At least he didn't have to wait long before the door opened.

"Doll," master said, coming into the room. Peter's heart warmed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sore, but I'm okay."

"Can you remember what happened?" Tony sat on the bed and Peter crawled to his side and snuggled against him.

"That man came and..." Peter shook his head. "He tried to put me in his truck. I told him I didn't want to leave!" His fingers dug into Tony's shirt and he curled himself as close as he could get.

"It's okay, baby. You're okay." Master pet his hair and Peter believed him. Everything was okay.

"I tried to call for you. I'm sorry I left the garden."

"It's not your fault, doll. It's okay. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Peter nodded. "Just tired. What happened to that man?"

"You'll never see him again, I promise. No one is going to take you away from me."

"Never?"

"Not ever."

"Good." Peter sat up and kissed master's cheek. It made him happy when master kissed his lips in return.

"Get some more rest, sweet doll. Come out when you're ready to eat something."

"Yes, master." With a little smile on his lip, Peter let him tuck him back into bed. Exhaustion pulled him back under.

\----------

Everything was going to have to change. Living in the cabin was never going to work permanently, he saw that now. Eventually, something would come up. Work, an unexpected guest, and then there was life itself. Tony wasn't exactly an old man, but what if something happened to him? Anything from a car crash to a heart attack could end his life and Peter would be left alone in the middle of nowhere. He might be okay if he wasn’t locked downstairs, or he might sit and let himself starve to death anyway. He'd gone to great lengths to make the boy completely codependent. He didn't even feed himself anymore. There had to be a plan in the event that Tony couldn't care for him anymore.

Plus, they just needed a better way of doing things in general. The longer he stays away from work, the more questions he has to answer to. He could just resign. It was his son of a bitch father's company anyway, but no. He'd worked too hard to make it a company that was worth something. Not just monetarily, but to society. He should at least be able to keep working on his projects. He didn't want to give it up anymore than he wanted to give up Peter.

He had a plan. A brilliant plan. He just hoped taking Peter from his basement wouldn't be too confusing for him.

All he needed was a good lawyer, a psychologist he could pay off, and some time to move some furniture around.

To get all of that, he'd have to make some house calls.

After two days of letting Peter rest, Tony put his doll back in his box and left for the city.

He was anxious the whole time. There was this fear under his skin, something unfamiliar, something new. It was only soothed when he watched the live feed of Peter's room. He watched him take care of his plants, watched him read a book, watched him take a bath. Just watching the boy sleep calmed him like a lullaby and he found himself sleeping easier with the live feed in view on the nightstand.

\---------

Peter struggled to sleep. After spending so much time with master, he felt like something was missing. It was like he'd taken a piece of his heart with him. He spent a lot of time with tears in his eyes. He didn't bother to hide them. As much as he wanted to be a perfect happy doll for his master, he knew master liked it when he cried, too. He wondered if he smiled while he watched him sniffle. It would be worth it if he did. Even though it hurt.

The first day was the worst. He couldn't eat anything and he struggled to pull himself out of bed. Eventually, he got up only for the sake of checking on his plants. Then he dragged himself into the bathroom, hoping a bubble bath would soothe him. As much as he loved the smell of lavender, whenever the water touched his neck his chest would tighten. After a while, it became too much of a hassle to keep comfortable and he climbed out.

He put on a skirt and knee highs for the sake of imaging that master had dressed him. Then he picked up a book and sat down to distract himself. It felt like days had passed, but he was sure it had only been a few hours, when the TV switched itself on. Master had told him about the webcam he'd set up. He had been hoping he'd call soon, but Peter never really knew when he'd see the man again even when he was home.

"Hi, master!" Peter smiled. He set down his book and crawled to the end of the bed. He felt like he was looking at the sun after a thunderstorm.

"There's my pretty doll. Being good for me?" The angle looked like he might be on a cell phone. Peter didn't recognize the room behind him.

"Always, master. I miss you."

"I know you do, my doll. I've been watching you."

Peter blushed. He loved it, though. He lived for master's attention. It felt good to know he was always checking on him.

"Show off your pretty skirt for me," he said.

Peter slipped down from the bed and did a little twirl. Master whistled.

"And show me what's underneath," he said, voice lower.

Peter turned around and slid up his skirt, showing off his round ass. Feeling brave, he even bent over and spread open his ass so master could see his hole. The man groaned.

"That's a good fucking doll. Bet that fuck hole misses me doesn't it?"

"So much master. Please come home and fuck me," he whined. He looked back over his shoulders. He caught Tony licking his lips.

"Soon, baby doll. Real soon. I have some more business to take care of. You keep taking care of my doll for me."

Peter straightened up and turned around, smoothing his skirt. "Yes, sir," he said.

"And eat something. Now."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, embarrassed at being caught. "Yes, sir."

"See you soon, doll."

The screen went black and turned off. A little sob escaped him and Peter covered his traitorous mouth. He didn't want to cry again. His face was sore from rubbing away tears. Ignoring the sick feeling in his belly, he went to the fridge for a snack. He knelt on the floor by the table to eat it. If he closed his eyes he could just imagine master's hand petting his hair.

The second day was a lot of the same. He cried a lot, he struggled to eat, but he managed a little bit better. He spent some time in the bathroom shaving his legs and moisturizing his skin and conditioning his hair. He wanted to be extra soft for his master so he'd want to rub his hands all over him. He trailed his own fingers up his thigh, closing his eyes to picture his master's hand. His body craved his master's touch. It didn't help that he was so sensitive after shaving. He ached for master to come home and use his toy.

He still had the toy that master gave him to practice his deep throating with. It tempted him to stuff it inside his needy hole, but no. It wouldn't be like when master fucked him. It would like those machines. He didn't want lifeless and unfeeling. He wanted master's cock, warm and throbbing inside him. He wanted hot breath panting against the back of his neck and bruising hands on his waist.

Peter sat down on the cold tile floor, fantasizing. He wanted master to come home and take him like he had that first day he'd shown him the garden. The way he'd fucked him and used him until there was nothing left. His hand on his throat had felt so intimate.

Some times when he thought about Tony, he wondered what it felt like to fall in love. He wondered if this was close enough. His fingers traced the brand on his hip. It didn't matter what it was called, Tony made him feel good. He felt like he belonged.

After ending the call, he switched the camera feed. He couldn't say why, but he needed to see him again. Peter sat and cried for a while. Then he got up, fixed his rumpled clothes and went to the table of plants. He ran his fingers over the leaves, seemingly lost in thought.

Tony watched the boy and his heart grew warm. The realization instantly chilled him. This didn't feel like obsession or lust or anything Tony knew. It was wrong. Bad. Dangerous. Nothing about what he had done to Peter was healthy, yet there was this... attachment. He hadn't planned on conditioning himself to need Peter as much as he made Peter need him. He grit his teeth in agitation. The thought that Peter had that kind of hold on him, that kind of power, enraged him. This was exactly the reason he'd wanted a doll in the first place. A mindless, fuck hole of a creature to keep locked away until he needed it. So that he'd never get close to anyone, never fall in love, never let another person hurt him again.

He should kill him. If he were smart he would go straight home and kill the boy. He could scrap his plan to frame Obediah and save himself the trouble. He could destroy both of their bodies and walk away.

He couldn't suffer this feeling again. He needed to kill him and be done with it.

\----------

Peter woke up groggy and disoriented. His head swam as he tried to figure out where he was. Eventually, the basement came into view, but rather than lying on his bed, he was kneeling on the other side of the room. He panicked as he realized that he couldn't move. He tried to call out for his master, but there was something holding his mouth open. Maybe a ring gag. It didn't feel quite like a ring. It was wider.

His back was pressed firmly against a wooden post with his hands tied somewhere behind him. They were pulled out straight, probably chained to the wall. He couldn't move and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't even turn his head to look for master, it was strapped back against the post, too. He whined through the gag.

"Master's in a really bad mood today, doll," Master's voice said from where he couldn't see. "I'm going to take it out on you. I'm going to make you cry."

He walked around to Peter's front. There wasn't an ounce of affection or warmth in his eyes. He'd gotten used to that adoring look. It scared him that it wasn't there. Harsh fingers grabbed the hair at the top of his head and he flinched.

Fear struck him as master stuffed his cock into his open mouth. He forgot all about his training and immediately gagged, body jolting, but there was no escape. Master slapped his face.

"None of that. Be a good cock hole," he ordered. Not that he seemed to care as he started fucking his open mouth, forcing his way into his throat, making him choke every time. Tears and spit ran down his face. He choked and gasped for air, but he couldn't suck much in before his throat was filled again with cock. He thought he might pass out.

And he kept going.

Master stopped sometime after he'd gone light headed and dizzy. He choked and gasped and for a moment be couldn't find air behind the copious spit his mouth had produced. He sucked in a full breath only to lose it as master kicked him in the ribs.

Peter grunted in pain. Another kick and he groaned. His teeth dug into the metal gag. He tried to beg his master to stop, but he didn't care.

"Shut up and take it," he barked. He grabbed the top of his head by his hair and his fist crashed into his face. It was painful and bruising, but Peter was sure he hadn't hit him as hard as he could have. He tried to concentrate his mind on being good for his master. If he wanted Peter to be a punching bag then he'd just have to take it.

Master painted his skin in bruises. Every swing of his fists preceded a deep, blunt, pain. Peter cried quietly, hanging limp where he was bound. It didn't last long. Master took a step back and Peter looked up at him with watering eyes. His chest was heaving. The wildness and anger in his eyes started to fade. Peter flinched as he reached for him, squirming in his bindings. Then he was free.

He fell forward, catching himself just in time and hurting his wrist. Master kicked him over onto his back. Then he was on top of him. He didn't fight at first, but after a strike against his collar bone he couldn't help it. He lashed out, fists clenched, but he couldn't make a solid connection.

Master caught his wrists and his free hand wrapped around his throat. Frightened tears streamed down his face. With the gag still in his mouth, he couldn't even beg for his life. There was only hate and disgust in the man's eyes. Peter felt certain that he was going to die and it was the last thing he thought as he lost consciousness.

Tony released him the second his eyes fluttered shut. "No..." He slapped the boy's cheeks but he didn’t wake.

"Peter? No, no, Peter..." He put a hand to his neck, searching for a pulse. It took him a second to find it with his own heart pounding in his ears. A terrified sob shook him. Hands shaking, he gathered Peter in his arms and carried him to the bed. He lay still and unmoving like an enchanted prince from a story.

This was what he'd wanted right? No, he knew better than that. Despite the brutal attack he'd laid on the helpless boy, he didn't mean it when he'd thought to kill him. He'd let himself think it, but it wasn't true. This violence had spawned from the helplessness he felt. Because he'd gone too far. Because it was too late to kill him.

He'd thought that with Peter, everything would be better. So why was he standing over another body?

No. Not a body this time. He watched his chest rise and fall. He watched him breathe until he calmed down.

He walked around the bed and laid down on the other side. He let his eyes close, concentrating on slowing his breathing. After a long while, he sat up. He looked at Peter, limp and unconscious. He was going to have so many bruises tomorrow. And maybe a fractured rib. He was sure he'd felt one crack under his fist. How did he make such a mess of this?

He laid down on his side. With one finger he traced the length of Peter's throat where his skin would be bruised tomorrow. He wished he could explain himself, but it would ruin everything. He'd worked so hard to break Peter in just the right way. He couldn't give it up now. So he confessed it all while he slept.

"I wanted you to need me... like no one else ever has," he said, quietly so that only Peter could hear his sins. He cupped his sleeping face. It would be purple tomorrow. "I wanted to be the only thing in your life. I made myself more important than even your own identity. Some days, I'm not sure you know your own name."

"I wanted you to want to stay with me forever. I wanted to make you stay. I wanted to hurt you and use you. In some completely fucked way, I wanted to save you. Because I knew what would happen."  
He kissed Peter's forehead and watched him breathe for a while. He remembered the first time he saw Peter at SI.

"You were just my type. Sweet, beautiful, eager. I would have taken you home. And you would have taken your last breath. Obi wasn't lying about cleaning up my messes. And I remember every one of them."

"Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm a monster or if the monster is something that lives inside me. All I know is that for the first time, I want someone to live more than I want to kill. And it's going to be the thing that ends me." He swallowed, throat feeling thick.

"But I don't regret any of it... except for this. This moment, right now. Because I came home with the intention of killing you. Violently, intimately. Because I'm just as dependent on you as you are me. I broke us both, Peter."

Tony dragged in a rough breath. He felt his eyes burning and it made him laugh. Was he going to cry? He hadn't cried in so long. "I've never loved anyone or anything. Not since I was a child. Not since my mother died. I'm still not sure I even loved her. I'm not sure I'm capable of it. But I think, for me, this is as close as it gets. Obsessive codependency." He laughed. "It's what I deserve, isn't it? It's poetic."

"Peter... doll..." He wiped away blood from Peter's cheek. He'd split the skin above his cheek bone. "There's no going back now... but I promise, whatever happens, I will never do this to you again. Please don't be afraid of me when you wake up. Don't hate me."

He laid his head against Peter's chest and for the first time in a long time, he cried.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it... the big one. How bittersweet. I hope you all find this ending satisfactory. I'm not sure I. I spent about a month writing the ending again and again, but this feels like poetry and the irony is that I never liked poetry.
> 
> Side note, I know that Bruce isn't 'that kind of doctor' it's just that I don't care.
> 
> Oh and uh, buckle in. This chapter is over 11k words long.

There were two people living inside his head. Both of them were defined in terms of Tony. The first was Peter, who Tony called baby, sweetheart, and dear. The other was Doll, who Master called baby doll, my doll, and fuck toy. They were each very different from the other aside from one ever present fact. A fact that he would suffer for forgetting. They both belonged to Tony Stark. Disobedience would lead to immediate punishment. This was something he'd learned two years ago. Back when there was only Peter.

Since then, everything had changed.

The cabin was gone and Peter's life was a little less lonely, but a little more confusing.

Saturdays were Peter's favorite. They were the days that Tony gifted to him. His special day to have his full attention. On an ordinary day, the man would be down in the lab before Peter ever woke up. He'd call around lunch time and check on him, but Peter wouldn't seem him in person until dinner. Not on a Saturday, though. Saturdays were perfect.

On a particular Saturday, Peter woke up early. A smile lit up his face as he sat up in bed. He pushed the button on his night stand to open the electronic stutters on the windows and let in the clean morning light. He smiled to see his plants, which filled the room with life, and his bookshelf, which was slowly filling with gifts from the handful of guests Tony allowed to visit. Peter's condition was too fragile for too many visitors or for visitors who might upset him. Or at least, that's what Tony said.

Peter went to his closet and picked out a favorite of Tony's. It was a light pink, long sleeve, shirt and a pair of white shorts. He got himself ready in the bathroom, fixing his hair and brushing his teeth. Then he dressed and left the bedroom behind.

He was only allowed to use the kitchen as long as he promised to be extremely careful. Upholding his promise, he moved around the space with great care and awareness. When he was done, he had a beautiful of stack of pancakes topped with peanut butter and bananas. He put it all on a tray next to a cup of steaming coffee and a bowl of strawberries.

He picked up the tray and carried it to Tony's bedroom. The apartment's AI opened the door for him and he quietly thanked it. Then he tiptoed his way to the bed.

Tony was a lump of blankets on the far side of the bed. Peter set the tray down as quietly as he could on the nightstand. Then he slowly crawled up into the bed. He reached out for Tony's shoulder, but before he could touch him he was tackled to the bed.

"Got ya!" Tony yelled, as he pounded.

Peter erupted into giggles, squirming in the blankets. He fought until Tony managed to plant a kiss on his lips. He stopped his struggling, but he couldn't help but smile.

"Did you honestly think you could get away with a single thing in this house without me knowing?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, master."

Tony looked at the tray on the table. "What's all this about?"

"I wanted to do something special for you."

"Is today special?"

"It's Saturday! Did you forget?" Of course he didn't forget. Tony was a genius and he was perfect in every way. Still, Peter pouted just for show.

"Of course not, baby. How could I forget about our special day?" He kissed Peter's forehead and his phony pout melted away.

He let Peter sit up and they curled up together with the tray over their laps. Tony fed him his share off his fingers. Peter licked away all the peanut butter and syrup stickiness after every bite. When it was done they were both comfortable and full. Peter nestled into Tony's chest with a contented smile on his face. It seemed like he was always smiling as long as Tony was around.

"Today is special you know..." Tony said after a while. He kept absently scratching his nails over Peter's skin.

"It is?" Peter looked up at him. His eyes were far away as he thought about something.

"It's our anniversary."

"Today?" Peter's forehead scrunched. The date never meant anything to him. He never paid much attention to the numbers on the calendar. He only concerned himself with how many days were left until Saturday. Or how many hours until Tony would return.

"Uh huh," Tony said. "Today, two years ago, is when I brought you home. I wondered if you had figured it out somehow."

"No. I didn’t realize."

"Do you remember before?" Tony looked at him now.

"You mean the basement?"

"No, baby. Before the basement. Before I brought you home."

Peter's forehead scrunched. It hurt his head to try to remember those things. There was a fog over his memories when he tried to think too far back. He could catch little slivers. Things like high school math class and a superhero themed birthday party further back, but nothing more recent than a blurry childhood. Sometimes, he did remember though. And when he remembered, he would cry and his chest hurt and it was scary. So he didn't want to remember. Maybe that's why the fog was there. Maybe before was bad. He supposed he was protecting himself.

"I don't remember." He shook his head. "I don't want to think about..."

"It doesn't matter anyway."

"I love being with you, master," Peter said. He hoped the words would dispel the tension that was thickening the air. His fingers traced over the mark on his belly. 'STARK', it said. "Am I your doll forever, master?" Of course he knew the answer, but he liked it when master said it.

Tony's arms wrapped around him. He squeezed Peter tight against his chest. "Forever and ever, baby."

Peter relaxed, calm returning to his frayed nerves.

"You can't bare to call me 'Tony', can you?" he asked.

His master's real name made his stomach upset. He didn't like thinking about the man that he was when he didn't need Peter. He needed to feel needed. "I don't like it, but I will if you tell me to."

Tony kissed his cheek. "Only when Pepper comes to visit. And Dr. Banner. But you do have to stop flinching when they call you 'Peter'."

Peter tucked his legs up against his chest. He didn't like his own name for the same reason. "I'll try, sir."

Tony kissed his neck, nibbling until he laughed and squirmed away. "How would you like to spend today in the garden?"

Peter smiled. He loved his garden. Tony had made it so beautiful for him. It was a gift, he said, to make up for having to leave the cabin and give up the garden he had there. The apartment was so much more comfortable anyway. Peter knew that it was thanks to the AI that watched his every move that Peter was allowed the freedom he had here. Tony only locked him in his room on occasion. Well, after the first few weeks, once he decided it was okay for Peter to be allowed out. Now he was allowed to be in any room he wanted, even when Tony was away. And he could watch whatever he wanted on TV and listen to whatever music he wanted. The best part was the touch screen in the living room that let him call Tony whenever he needed to. Though he'd been taught not to do that too often in a day and they'd agreed to regular calls in the morning and then at lunch time. If Peter called any other time and it wasn't an emergency, he lost privileges which left him bored and lonely all day.

The garden, though. Tony's offer of enjoying the garden together sounded perfect. "I'd love to, master!" He smiled.

Master took Peter's hand and slipped off the bed, pulling him along. He lead him to the elevator. The doors slid open and together, they stepped inside. Peter so rarely left the apartment that his hands shook. His fingers reached under his shirt to trace the lines on his skin that spelled his master's name. Tony squeezed his hand.

"You're okay, baby. We're not leaving, I promise."

Peter nodded, but he couldn't help chewing his lip anyway. The world outside had become too unfamiliar and scary. It didn't interest him in the least. The only place he wanted to be was by Tony's side. He pressed himself closer to Tony as if he would protect him from the outside world.

The doors opened. They stepped out into a wonderland of color and life. It was like having a small park contained on a rooftop. Peter dragged Tony behind him, hurrying along to visit his favorite planter full of sunflowers. Well, his second favorite ever since Tony gave him strawberry plants. Right now, the strawberries were small and pale, but soon they would be full and red. Peter liked to imagine feeding them to his master when they were ripe. He wanted to feel him lick away the juice from his fingers. He wanted the closeness of such a moment.

There was a bench in front of the brick planter of sunflowers and they sat there together. Tony pulled him onto his lap and held him close. In the warm sunlight with the smell of flowers in the air, Peter could imagine that Tony loved him. He could forget that he was just a toy. That's what was so perfect about a Saturday. On an ordinary day, master came home, they ate dinner, and then he used his holes before sending him to bed. On Saturday, the time they spent together was quality.

"What do you think about when we're up here?" Tony asked.

"You." Peter took Tony's hand off his belly and kissed it. "Always you."

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"Sometimes I think about the plants and how proud you must be when I take good care of them."

"That still sounds like thinking about me."

"Oh. Well... sometimes I think about what to wear."

"So you can please me?"

"Oh..." Peter's forehead scrunched. "Is that wrong?"

"No, dear. It's perfect. You're perfect."

Peter blushed. Tony kissed his neck. He moved his head to the side and let him kiss him all over. He started to suck a ring of bruises around his neck where his collar used to be. Peter missed his collar, but master put a chip under his skin so he would always know where his doll was. It was better in a way. It felt more permanent.

Master's sucking, biting, kisses, made him moan and squirm. His knees pushed up between Peter's and spread his legs open, holding them with his own. His fingers trailed up his thighs.

Peter gasped. "Master... oh master," he sighed.

"You must think about something else..." master said.

Peter shook his head. "I don't. I can't," he said. He moaned as he sucked another mark into his skin.

"What about those books Pepper gave you? Don't you read them?"

"I tried," he admitted. "But it just reminded me that you were gone and I missed you. I ended up watching one of our movies instead."

"Oh yeah?" His voice denoted amusement. "Which one?"

"The one-" his voice broke when master's fingers found his cock. He teased the head where it was wet and sticky against his shorts. "The one... after we moved here."

"And what happened after we moved, doll?" He stopped touching Peter's cock to pinch one of his nipples. He twisted it between his fingers.

"I-" Peter gasped. "You..." He couldn't help how it made him blushed. He hated to say it. Obviously, master loved all the things he hated.

"What happened, doll? Tell me."

"I was afraid of the apartment..."

"And what happened, baby doll?" he whispered in his ear. Peter shivered when he kissed the spot just below it.

"You made... uh... made me ride a toy in every room of the house."

"What kind of toy?" he smirked.

"A dildo." Peter's face burned and he hated it. Master's palm covered his cock, but he didn't rub him. Peter struggled to press himself after his hand, but he couldn't move in the position they were in. He whined in frustration.

"And what else happened?" Master coaxed.

"And I sucked your cock. And you filled my belly with your cum. And then after we did that in every room you made me cum on your fingers, on the kitchen island, until nothing came out anymore and it hurt so bad-"

"And you cried so beautifully. But then you weren't so scared anymore were you? Everything was fine and master was there, taking care of this sweet toy like always."

"Always, always," he moaned. Master's hand stroked his cock now, running from root to tip and letting go before starting over.

"So pretty. Those fucking little noises you make," he groaned.

"Please master, won't you fuck your doll?" Peter whined.

Master smiled against his neck. "Do you need this?" He rolled his hips up against Peter's ass.

"Please! Yes, please!"

Master kissed his neck. "Turn around. Ride me."

Peter carefully turned so they were facing each other. He shoved down his shorts, then pulled off each leg, holding on to the bench he wouldn't fall. Master lifted up so Peter could pull down his pants, too. When he looked at master's hardening cock, his mouth watered.

"Master can I suck you first please?" He looked up with wide eyes and his bottom lip sticking out.  
Master traced his lips with a finger. "Is this hole hungry, too?"

Peter nodded. "Please, sir." He kissed the tip of his master's finger.

"I suppose since it's such a special day, I'll let you have what you want."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, master!" He gave the man a quick kiss before slipping off the bench onto his knees. The floor was hard and uncomfortable. Dirt and pebbles dug unto his skin. He ignored them, wrapping a hand around master's cock. He licked the tip like it was candy before lightly sucking on the head. He knew how to please his master and he knew that when they had all day like this, he didn't like to cum too soon. It was perfect, because Peter loved the taste of him, the feeling of his cock filling his mouth. He could stay there giving the man teasing little kitten licks all day and be happy.

Master sighed and leaned back against the bench. He looked so content. Peter imagined him king of the world in his high tower with his perfectly trained fuck toy tending to his needs.

He watched the man's face, slight smile on his lips, as he licked and sucked. He took the head into his mouth and noisily slurped, giggling when Tony looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. He kept his teasing, kissing up the shaft and running his tongue in circles around the tip. Once he could master's fingers curl into a fist and the expression on his face turn less playful, he knew it was time to stop teasing and get to work.

He took master's cock into his mouth and went all the way down until it filled his throat and his nose squished against his belly. So much hard work had gone into breaking Peter of his gag reflex, but he'd done it. Well, mostly. He still gagged a little when master went too fast, but it wasn't never too bad. The important thing was that he could deepthroat him like master wanted. He bobbed his head, coming up only enough to breathe through his nose before going back down. Drool dripped from his lips in a wet mess, making sloppy, filthy, sounds.

Master groaned. "Up here, fuck doll. Ride master's cock."

Peter climbed up onto his lap and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He pulled down his shorts and carefully pulled them off one leg than the other. He held his master's spit soaked cock in one hand and slowly sank down until it filled him. Peter moaned as Tony sighed. His master's head fell back on his shoulders. Peter bubbled with pride, happy to please his master.

He ground his hips down, taking in every possible inch. Then he slowly raised up and back down. His hands held master's shoulders, thumbs resting on his collarbones. He kept the pace nice and slow, watching his master's face for a sign that he wanted more. He looked content, happy, like he could stay here with the sun on his face and Peter's body squeezing his cock forever. Peter would certainly like that. Even when his skin was burnt and his legs ached. If master said so, then he'd never ever move again.

Peter kept going, his movements even and slow. Sweet friction sent pleasant tingles through his body. His cock gave an annoyed sort of twitch as if begging for attention. He ignored it. He moved only for his master, eyes locked on his face. It felt like worship.

Master's hands slid up and down Peter's thighs, then up to his ass. They squeezed two soft handfuls. A finger traced where his hole swallowed up his cock.

Master chuckled. "It's such a nice day to enjoy the garden," he said.

Peter laughed. "Are you enjoying the garden, sir?"

"Oh immensely." He lifted his head and they shared a smile. Then he buried his face in Peter's neck, giving him kisses that made him sigh.

"Faster, little doll," he said. Peter instantly complied. Master moaned. "Faster," he said again.

Peter whimpered, fucking himself on his cock, taking him to the base again and again. When he looked at his master it was clear who was more effected. The man watched him with dark and hungry eyes. Peter couldn't stop his own whining, mouth hanging open. Master held his chin and spit into his open mouth. Peter shivered in pleasure, goosebumps covering his skin. He swallowed hard, feeling master's spit travel down his throat.

"Master," he moaned.

"What is it, doll?" he asked in his ear, brushing his lips along Peter's jaw.

"Please, cum in me. Please, master, cum in your doll's slutty fuck hole."

Master smirked. "What a good doll. So slutty for me. Do you need my cum that badly, dear?"

Peter nodded. He could feel wetness on his chin from his open mouth and he didn't care. "Please master!"

"What if only I cum? What if I don't let you cum after all your hard work?"

"Whatever you want, master. Anything!"

Peter whimpered as he kissed a line down his neck and bit his shoulder.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, yes!" he promised. He felt desperate and out of his mind. Riding master in the garden felt so much more intense than their usual nightly quickies. Peter didn't usually get to cum then, but master often let him on a Saturday. He didn't care if master took away his orgasm because it didn't belong to him in the first place.

"I'm yours. I'm your doll. Anything you want, my master."

"Sweet doll," master cooed. He caught Peter's face in his hands. He whined as he was forced to slow down, but master kissed him and he didn't mind so much. Master's tongue in his mouth was his favorite thing, but so was his teeth when he bit down on his lip. He liked when their kisses were tinged with iron. There was no blood today, though. Master was so gentle that it hurt in a different way. It made him feel desperate.

"Up, " master said. With a pained sound, Peter raised up off his cock. Master spit into his own palm and used it to slick his cock again. Despite the sloppy blowjob, he was going dry. Peter added his own spit to the mess before master let him get back on it.

He settled back down, feeling satisfied only when his ass met Tony's thighs. Master chuckled at the sound of his happy sigh.

"Master's little cock slut," he teased.

Peter smiled and nodded.

"Make me cum, baby doll."

He road him hard and fast, panting, ignoring the ache in his thighs. Master's hands squeezed his legs, but he left Peter to do all the work up until he was ready to cum. He pushed Peter down burying himself deep, planting his cum inside him. Peter panted against master's neck, holding back his own orgasm. He hadn't been given permission and the feeling of master's cum inside him often tipped him over the edge.

"That's my doll," master said. He kissed Peter's cheek and then his lips.

Peter whined as he pulled off of master's cock. As the high passed, he realized how raw he felt from the not quite slick enough fucking. He curled onto Tony's side and an arm wrapped around him.

"Beautiful day," he chuckled. Peter smiled.

They stayed up in the garden for a while. Peter didn't bother putting his shorts back on even while he watered his plants. Tony followed him around commenting on how well everything was doing and promising to get Peter something for the little worms they found in one flower pot. They'd eaten holes in a few leaves, but master promised that he wasn’t disappointed in Peter.

It was a perfect day, until master said, "Dr. Banner is coming by later."

Peter's shoulders slumped. "Why?" he whined. "I'm not sick."

"Why don't you like Dr. Banner?"

"He asks too many questions." Peter wasn’t stupid and he knew that the doctor wouldn't like it if Peter told him all his bruises (and occasionally cuts) came from Tony. He didn't like having to lie, but even more he hated the look he got when the doctor knew he was lying.

"It's okay, baby doll. You can tell him the truth."

Peter looked at his master with some skepticism. "Really?"

"If it makes you more comfortable. Nothing bad will happen. Besides he's only coming by to see how you're doing. No poking and prodding today."

"Promise?"

"Of course, baby."

Peter smiled. It wouldn't be so bad, he supposed, if he didn't have to be examined.

As it turned out, Dr. Banner only wanted to weigh him and take his temperature. He asked some questions about how he was feeling which Peter quickly brushed off as much as he could without being rude. He mostly ignored Peter after his quickie check up. Peter tried not to seem too uncomfortable as the man stayed for dinner.

Tony tried not to laugh as Peter's visible discomfort. Obviously, he understood that under normal circumstances any reputable doctor wouldn't approve of his condition. Not that Bruce did approve. Bruce argued as much as he possibly could without being removed from the picture completely. Tony only complied with the man's instance to visit once a month because it was truly in Peter's best interest. It was possible that Peter might hide symptoms of some sickness just to please him and Bruce would be more likely to see it than he would.

After dinner, Peter was quick to excuse himself. He gave Tony a kiss that was meant to be a quick peck before running off, but Tony caught his waist and pulled him in. He enjoyed the way Bruce became tense whenever he was reminded of the situation. Plus he never got tired of the softness inside Peter's mouth or the way he melted the second Tony took control.

With Peter off to bed, Tony poured himself and Bruce each a drink. They stood around the kitchen talking as the hour grew late. It was a friendly enough conversation about old times and old flings. Then Tony mentioned how long Peter had been living with him and Bruce put on his worried face.

"It's been years. You really aren't going to let him leave?" he asked. He set his drink down, a clear indication that he intended for this conversation to be a serious one.

Tony raised an eyebrow at the man. To him it seemed like such an out of the blue statement. Peter was a part of his life now and he'd never considered changing that. "I told you what this was before you got involved. Why are you worried about it now?"

"Because I thought that some time would pass and you would move on to the next project. Like you always do."

"This isn't a project. Not anymore. The work is done. This is the end result." Something about this line of questioning, the pressure Bruce was putting on him, as if he'd truly believed what he was saying, it put Tony on edge.

Bruce sighed. "It's not..."

"Healthy? Right? Legal? I know what this is. There's a lot that you don't know, Bruce. But there is one thing that's obvious."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"He won't survive without me now. You can't heal what I did. Trying to would make it worse. I buried too deep."

"We can fix this, Tony." The desperate tone of his voice sparked a flame.

"No, I don't think you're getting it," his eyes narrowed. He clenched his fists, but more than anything he wanted to advance, back the man into the wall, watch him shrink, force him to back down. "I don't want to. I did all of this for a reason. Because I wanted to. That's it. That's the whole reason. This was never a game or an experiment. I didn’t want to just see if I could. I wasn't trying to learn something. I wanted Peter so I took him. I wanted him to depend on me so I took everything from him. I wanted his obedience so I broke him. Like always, I made a plan and I saw it through. None of this was by accident. It wasn’t a mistake."

"Tony..." He hadn’t known all of this before. Tony had never explained exactly how in depth the whole situation went. It wasn’t important for him to know, but Tony wouldn't let him go on believing that Peter was a thing to toy with and toss away. Maybe once, but never now. He couldn't lose him now. Most importantly, Bruce couldn't take him away.

"And let me make one thing very clear. If you ever try to 'fix' him, you'll find out what kind of monster I am."

He looked as though he was trying to soothe him. Maybe he was scared. Or maybe he wanted to save them both. "I don't care about whatever dark past you're hiding... I just care about Peter. I want him to be safe-"

"He is!" Tony snapped.

Bruce fought back. "You hurt him, Tony! I'm his doctor. I see the marks! He swears it's not like that, but he's a bad liar."

Tony took a deep breath, unclenched his fists. "Forget it."

"Forget what?"

"All of it. Forget about Peter, forget about what you saw, forget about this."

Bruce shook his head. He was on the defensive now. "But what about-"

"I'll take care of him myself."

"You're not a doctor. What if he gets sick? Will you take him to one?"

"He is not leaving this apartment."

"Then I can't forget about it, Tony."

"Then get over it. If you're going to stick around and care for him, then you have to ignore the things I do. Keep him healthy, look past the bruises, and keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?"

Bruce grit his teeth, staring off at the wall. "If it means he doesn't die of pneumonia the next time you try to drown him, sure."

Tony clenched his fist, fighting down the impulse to pummel the man unrecognizable. The kindly doctor had no idea how much danger he was in. He could just hear the pounding of flesh, his screams, and Peter's... the poor thing would come to see what's going on and find a mess of gore. Fuck if it didn't excite him to expose him to that. He wouldn't even care in the end would he? More likely than not, he'd drop to his knees and lick the blood from his knuckles just to check if Tony had broken his own skin.

"Tony?"

"Time for you to go." His eyes looked at Bruce's face, but he didn’t see it. He kept himself rooted so he wouldn't act on his impulses.

"What?"

"Get out! I'll call you when Peter needs you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He could sense the doctor's worry, but the man was smart. He picked up his coat and slipped it on. Then he glanced at Peter's bedroom door. Finally he headed for the elevator. Tony swallowed, then slowly let his jaw unclench. He forced a less hostile expression in Bruce's direction as he looked his way. Then the elevator doors slid closed. Tony pulled in a deep breath.

"Jarvis. Let no one into the apartment until further notice," he said. He didn't like the ragged sound of his own voice.

"Will do, sir," answered the AI.

He unplanted his feet and without conscious decision they carried him to Peter's room. He opened the door. In the dark he could see the lump of Peter's body under the blankets and a mess of brown hair sticking out. He touched the panel on the wall and slowly brightened the lights, just enough so he wouldn't wake. He hovered over the bed, watching him sleep. He'd thought that he'd come in here to calm himself, but the hunger in his gut had other intentions.

Tony jumped onto the bed, legs straddling Peter's, clamping together so he couldn't kick. His hands grabbed hold of Peter's as they came up to protect himself. The sensation of a body struggling beneath gave him the high he was looking for, but it wasn't enough. He grabbed the pillow from under his head and covered his face with it before he could get a look at Tony's face. He held him there, struggling, soaking up the violence of it.

"Master! Master!" Peter screamed.

Tony didn’t answer. He didn't want the sound of his voice to calm him. Holding his wrists in one hand, he pressed the pillow tighter against his face. He tried to scream, tried to kicker harder. Tony rode his writhing form with ease. He let him suffocate and squirm until his struggling had his cock painfully hard. Then he removed the pillow.

Peter gasped in a breath. Staring up at him with wet eyes, he panted. Tony brushed away a tear from his cheek.

"M-master?" he gasped. "I'm sorry- I'm so sorry- I-"

"Hello, fuck toy," he grinned. "Did I scare you?"

"Yes, sir," he whined. "I'm sorry-"

Tony covered his mouth with his palm. Two fingers pinched his nose shut. Peter lay still and quiet, prepared to die if Tony desired it. Tony sighed. He rubbed his hard cock against Peter's thighs.

"That's right, doll. Be still." He watched the fear in his eyes. His body was so calm and still, but he wasn't in control of his own mind. Bring awakened so suddenly had scared him.

He made a sound under Tony's palm. He could feel him fighting not to pull away. When he succeeded at fighting himself and his eyes started to flutter, Tony let him breathe again. He let go of Peter's hands as well. He watched him gasp and his run his hands over his face. Then he settled with his hands beside his head on the mattress, looking up at Tony.

"You need to hurt me don't you, master?" his sweet voice said. "Let me help you."

Every time Peter willingly offered himself Tony was surprised. Even damaged as he was, it made more sense that he would merely tolerate Tony's behavior and comply to survive. But then sometimes, the boy seemed just as excited as he was. Curious, Tony let Peter up from the bed. He went to the closet, likely going for the toy box he kept in there. He wasn’t disappointed.

In Peter's hands was Tony's favorite cane. Just a skinny, wooden, rod. One end was forever stained with Peter's blood. He laid it reverently down on the bed, then stripped off his clothes. Then he walked to the window and put his hands against the glass, sticking his ass out.

"Please use me," he said. "Please hurt me, master."

Tony climbed off the bed, licking his lips. He caressed the smooth skin of Peter's ass. His doll worked so hard to keep his skin soft and his ass perky. He showed his appreciation with a gentle squeeze.

"Do you like the pain, baby doll?"

Peter whined, clearly uncertain if the question was a trap. "No, master... I don't."

Tony took his hand away. When he placed it on his back, Peter flinched, likely expecting a slap. He came in close and kissed his neck, inhaling the smell of his skin. "But you know what I like?" he asked.

"When I cry," he said.

"I love it when you cry." Tony licked the shell of his ear and watched him shiver, eyes squeezing shut. "And when you scream. And when you keep so still and well behaved even when it must hurt terribly." He trailed his fingers down Peter's spine.

"Do you know what else I like?"

"What, master?"

"Convincing your body to get off on anything I do to you. Especially when you hate it." He bit Peter's shoulder and he loved the way he gasped. "And you've been so good. It's so sweet how you know just what master needs. Stay put."

Tony stepped away and went to the closet. He found the toy box tucked in one corner. Then he took out the thing he was looking for. Slicking the toy with a palm full of lube, he walked back to Peter.

"Present for you," he kissed his shoulder. "Let's see if we can't convince my pretty doll to get hard for me." He placed the toy against Peter's hole. It was about five inches long and knotted at the base. The knot would keep it locked inside. Stomach still burning with violence, he wanted to stuff it inside him all at once to make him scream, but he stayed his hand. He could be patient. He could take care of them both.

Peter whined as he slipped the toy inside. Tony watched each inch slowly fill him up. Then the knot was against his hole. "Deep breath," he said. As Peter obeyed, he pushed the knot in. His breath came out in a gasp.

"Good doll." He kissed his shoulder. Then he turned on the toy. He smirked when Peter squealed, fingers clawing at the glass. "Be good," he reminded. Peter straightened his relaxed posture, keeping his ass pointed out.

For one final touch, Tony went to the panel on the night stand. He pushed a button and the black of the window became a mirror. Peter looked up into his own wide eyes.

Tony picked up the cane. He ran his fingers up and down the length, checking for splinters. The wood was so flexible that in all its use it hadn't yet cracked.

He positioned himself to Peter's left. Then he raised the cane. It cut through the air, whistling as he swung. In one swift movement, the cane lashed against Peter's ass in two quick strikes. Peter hissed. Tony admired the way his skin turned pink.

He looked up to see Peter staring down at his toes, catching his breath.

"No, doll," he said. Peter looked at him in the mirror. "Look at me or look at yourself, but don't look down."

"Yes, sir," he said, his voice was quiet, stolen by pain. He'd be much louder in no time.

Tony pressed two fingers against the base of the toy in his ass, smirking when Peter gasped. He pushed on the toy, moving it around inside him and he kept playing with it while he struck his thighs with the cane. Peter hissed and moaned. By the time his thighs were covered in crisscrossing red lines, his cock was hard, rising up toward his belly.

He left the toy alone, turning his attention to Peter's plump ass. He struck it with the cane loving the music that was made, the whistle then crack of the cane, then Peter's sweet cries. He kept going, turning pale skin red. Peter whimpered and whined and before long, sobbed. Tony watched his face in the mirror. Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, each strike of the cane coaxing another from his red eyes.

It wasn’t enough.

Tony dropped the cane. Peter hissed as he touched his ass. No broken skin tonight. He'd held back. Maybe that was why needed more. His raked his nails over the red lines and sighed. That was what he needed. Those high whines that were almost screams. He rubbed away the sting, then let his nails drag across his skin again. It wasn’t quite enough, but he was satisfied for now.

He turned Peter around and kissed his bitten red lips.

"Did you get what you needed, master?" Peter whispered with a voice thick with tears.

"Yeah, baby. I'm okay." He held his face in his hands and kissed his damp cheeks. Peter's hand found his thigh, following it up to where his cock was hard in his sweats.

"Let me help you, master," he said.

Tony caught his lips again, kissing him hard. Peter should hate him, he really should. And yet he says things like that. As if he knows that Tony needs him. As if he knows that if he ever did hate him, it would shatter him. As if he knew that Tony's greatest fear was for Peter hate him and fear him.

Lips moving together, Tony walked them back to the bed. He laid back and pulled Peter down on top of him so he didn't have to lay on his sore ass.

Tony rolled his hips up against Peter's. The boy whimpered against his mouth. He held him with a hand on his head and one on his back, holding him close as they rut against each other. He let the hand on his back slide down, very lightly, to his ass. He pulled the toy out, Peter moaned into his mouth as the knot slipped free. He pushed it back him, fucking him with the knot of the toy. Peter whined, losing control, mouth hanging open. Tony kept kissing his open lips, nothing but his adoration for Peter on his mind.  
Peter came, ass clamping down around the toy, back bowing. His head buried in Tony's neck. Tony kept going until he was done. Then he turned off the toy and took it out. He held Peter to his chest, petting his soft hair.

"Master," he said, voice so soft and tired.

"You did perfect, my doll. Get some rest," Tony said.

Peter snuggled against his chest. Tony held him, watching his breathing slow and even out.

"Jarvis," he said quietly. "Get the lights."

"Yes, sir," the AI whispered back. The lights lowered until it was dark and the windows turned black once again. Tony buried his face in Peter's hair. It took a long time for him to fall asleep, but eventually Peter's slow breathing coaxed him to drift off.

He felt off the next day.

Jarvis woke him at his usual time. Peter had slipped off his chest and was sleeping curled into his side. Tony carefully pulled himself off the bed and covered him in a blanket. Then he left the bedroom and went to get ready. It took brushing his teeth, dressing, and swallowing down an omelet in too large bites to realize how depressed he felt.

It was Peter's fault. Tony was usually so good at controlling his emotions. After leaving the cabin and killing Obediah, Tony had felt free. He'd left the pain of his past behind and moved on to a new life. The fear that used to hold him back was gone. But now there was a new fear: Peter.

Every now and then he had nightmares, but most often the fear struck him in the form of an invasive thought. Peter hating him, screaming and raging whenever Tony comes near, refusing to be compliant and obedient, ripping apart all the strings that stitched together what made him Tony's doll. Peter being afraid of him, curling up in a ball on the floor, crying until he can't breathe, having a panic attack so strong that it suffocates him.

He doesn't know what's scarier: knowing that these things could happen or knowing that he would give Peter anything to stop them.

Irony. Justice. Karma. Whatever it was, his life was painted in it now.

He tried to shake it by giving Peter gifts sometimes. Sometimes the gifts were poorly planned like when he'd allowed Peter access to the pool on the second floor and his fear had come to life when Peter's foot slipped under the water and it went up his nose and he'd had a panic attack. But it wasn't because of him directly. Yes, it was what he had done to him, but it was the water Peter was afraid of. He couldn't even make the young man happy without making his life worse. He felt trapped. And there was the irony.

He went down to the lab, but he spent two hours watching Peter through the cameras instead of working. Pepper came in just before lunch. Tony heard her heels tap on the floor, but he couldn't look away from the screen. Peter was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the couch. He was flipping through a book that he clearly wasn't reading. He kept looking up at the clock. He was waiting for their daily lunch call. So was Tony. He could just call now, but it was good for them both to practice discipline and Peter needed the routine for stability's sake. Or maybe he just knew that with the way he was feeling, he would run home if Peter asked.

"How's it coming along?" Pepper asked as she came close. She took a peek at Tony's screen and he turned it off. It wasn’t that he cared if Pepper knew he was watching him. Something about anyone but him watching Peter while he thought he was alone bothered him.

"Great, it's great," he lied.

Pepper knew him better than that. "And how's Peter?"

Tony scowled, cutting his eyes at her.

"Come on, you two fighting or something?" She put her hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

Tony sighed. "I... it feels wrong."

Pepper snorted. "Holding someone hostage isn't supposed to feel right."

"Not that. Peter. I feel different now, than I did, when I look at him."

"I didn't want to get my hopes up, but you look love sick, Tony."

"What? No. I wouldn't do myself that much credit. I know what I am." He stared at the black screen wished he was looking at Peter.

Pepper sighed. "Tony... it's not about you. Believe it or not. It's about Peter. If you're heart is aching to making him happy, than just do it. Give in. Live your life for him. You'll be happier than you've ever been before. Even if it's messed up and frankly kind of gross. Don't hurt yourself trying escape it."

Tony thought about it. Sometimes he thought about Peter and the word 'love' came to mind. It was often followed by the phrase 'Stockholm syndrome'. Pepper could romanticize things if she wanted, but he knew better.

Pepper turned him around in his seat. Her hands held his face to keep his eyes on her. "Believe it or not, there's good in you Tony Stark. However much there is, Peter deserves every bit of it."

Tony thought she was delusional, trying to make a twisted situation more palatable. At least he wasn’t attacking her this time. Maybe there was some truth to what she said. If he could change enough to let Pepper care about him, maybe he could be better for Peter.

"You're still coming to dinner tonight, right?"

Pepper smiled. "If you think think Peter can survive on your company alone, you're crazy."

She leaves him alone after that. Tony is left to stare longingly at the black screen all he wants. To punish himself for his absurdity and to punish Peter for causing it, he was exactly one minute late when he called. Peter had tears in his eyes when he answered. He sniffed a bit and tried to hide that he'd been clutching his blanket to his chest.

"Hello, master," he said, forcing a smile.

"Hi, baby doll. Why are you crying?" Tony asked, as if he didn't know why. As if it didn't please him to remember how easily he could hurt him.

"I was worried you wouldn't call."

"I'll always call, baby. I promised, didn't I? Don't be silly."

Peter nodded as if this made sense. Because he was completely dependent on Tony and therefore had no choice but to trust him. Tony closed his eyes as a familiar sensation rushed through him. The adrenaline that comes with holding power over another person. He smiled, remembering who he was. Remembering what Peter was. Maybe it could be nice to love Peter, but it was undoubtedly nice to have his dependency, to hold every aspect of his life in his hands. To cause him pain by simply being late to their lunch call. Peter's life was meaningless every second that Tony wasn't with him and Tony loved it.

They talked for a little while, mostly about nothing. They Tony tried to get back to work. He was too distracted, though. He missed the softness of Peter's skin. He missed the taste of his mouth. He wondered if Peter had managed to distract himself with that book or if he was still thinking about him. He let his head drop, thunking against the table. He knew exactly what he needed to do to soothe his distracted mind. Was he really too much of a coward to even try?

It took a while to convince himself to move, but once he started, momentum took over. He was out the door and on his way to the apartment in under a minute.

Tony ground his teeth as the elevator climbed. His nails bit into palms. He felt sweat forming on the sides of his neck. The metal box stopped its movement. Then the doors slid open.

The sight Peter waiting on the other side, summoned by the chime of the elevator, it soothed him. His muscles relaxed, unclenched. His jaw released. He stepped out and pulled Peter into his arms. The younger man melted against him.

"You came home early," he said. "I'm so happy. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, baby doll."

Peter looked up at him, cheeks turning pink, mouth curling into a smile he clearly couldn't contain. "Really?"

Tony stroked his hair. He looked at his wide and shiny eyes, his skin that was just lightly sun-kissed, the small cut on his lip where he must have bit it while he waited for Tony. He felt warm. His mind and heart warred between feelings of safety and of fear. Some instinct that he had cultivated over decades told him to drag Peter to the roof top and drop him over the edge. Another, newer instinct, one that frightened him, hugged Peter closer to his chest at the thought.

"Master?"

He couldn't speak. He knew the words he kept inside would spill out if he did. What would happen if he let them? Would he break? Would Peter?

Without a word, he led Peter to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed pulling Peter down with him. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him to his body.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, gentle, loving, as if they were lovers, as he could love him. Tony felt like he was breaking. He remembered what it felt like to hold Peter in his arms and believe that he would die. He'd forgiven him after. Immediately upon waking. He'd been sore yet smiling. Because when Tony was with him he rejoiced. Peter never seemed to remember that day. He'd repressed it. He should tell him. He should tell him all the things he doesn't remember. He should make him afraid. Then it wouldn't matter. These feelings of softness and affection, wouldn't they fade if Peter cowered from him?

"What am I supposed to do?" Tony said, to himself more than anything.

Peter's soft hand held his face. "Anything you want," he said.

Tony's jaw clenched. "What do you want?"

"You, master."

Tony's eyes closed. He'd done this. He'd wanted this. He enjoyed it still when he was the only thought in Peter's head.

"What will make you happy, doll?" He cut him off before he could answer in the same way. "We could take a trip somewhere. We could go to the beach. Or I could get you a computer. You could play video games. You used to like video games."

"I did?" Peter said.

"Yeah, baby doll. What about some new books? I'll even let you pick them out. You could fucking go to school if you want, just tell me... I can give you anything." His eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't listen to himself. What was he doing?

"Master?" Tony opened his eyes to see tears forming in Peter's. "You're scaring me," he said.

"No, baby." Tony squeezed him tight, burying Peter's face against his chest. Those words... why did he have to say it like that. "I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby. I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well today, that's all."

Peter's breath was hot through his shirt. "How can I help? I want to help." He slipped down the bed, fingers dragging down Tony's belly. "You didn't cum last night. Let me help you." His fingers curled in the band of Tony's pants.

"No, baby." Tony caught one of his hands "Just lay here with me. Let me hold you."

Peter nodded, but he still looked anxious and uncertain. He moved back up the bed until his head was level with Tony's. He watched the boy watch him, feeling calm fill his raging mind at the rise and fall of his chest. How was he supposed to make him happy? How was he supposed to live for him, the way that Pepper said, when Peter didn't want anything? But that wasn't entirely true. What Peter wanted was him.

Maybe he didn't have to do anything different. Maybe this was enough. Given enough gentle moments, maybe Peter would be happy. Not that he seemed terribly upset by the rougher moments either. Still, he would be careful. He could formulate a careful balance between his own craving for sadism and Peter's need for affection. He was a genius. This was the least of what he could do.

Peter was starting to look uncomfortable, like he might cry again. Tony kissed his forehead and he sighed, tension fading from his body. He worked his way down, getting a giggle when he kissed Peter's nose, and a breathless almost moan when he kissed his lips.

This is where the poisoning started, he realized, with his satin soft lips. That first kiss, before they'd even left that fated Stark Industries party. When he'd pulled him into the shadows and kissed him. When he whispered the sweet words that coaxed Peter into his car. He'd poisoned himself.

Like an addict, he pressed closer, lips sliding against Peter's. His kisses were firm and savoring of each movement. He kissed him until they both needed to breathe, but he paused for only a moment before he did it again. He thought about the beginning, when Peter fought, when he screamed and cried and pleaded. All the punishment, the arguments, the tears. He was perfect now, always perfect. Tony intended to treat him as such.

He held him and he kissed him and his doll made only the sweetest sounds in the universe. He didn't realize for how long until Jarvis interrupted.

"Sir," he said, very quiet.

"Hmm?" Tony answered, refusing to stop.

"Dinner is in an hour."

Tony groaned. He kissed Peter only a moment more. Then he looked at his beautiful blushing face. His lips were cherry red from kissing.

"Dinner?" Peter asked.

"Pepper is coming to visit."

"Oh..." Peter looked down. His fingers danced over Tony's shirt.

"Don't you like Pepper?"

His flicked up, never sure if he could be honest. There was one thing he wanted to change. He'd have to learn patience though wouldn't he? Peter can't get comfortable with honesty if he's afraid Tony will get mad.

"I'm not sure," he said.

"We'll have a nice dinner either way. She worries that you might go insane with only me for company." He tickled Peter's belly. "Do I make you insane?"

Peter laughed, rolling away from his tickling fingers.

"Are you tired of me, baby doll?" He smiled, watching Peter laugh.

"No, master! Never!" he gasped, choked with laughter.

Tony stopped and kissed his forehead. "Let's get a shower before she gets here."

\----------

In the shower, Peter happily sighed as master scrubbed his hair. He'd seemed so strange and upset before. He wasn't sure why. He wondered if he'd done something wrong. It was so confusing and stressful to think about that he tried to push the thought away and enjoy his master's hands on him.  
Master seemed especially gentle as he scrubbed. He soaped up every inch of Peter's body, soft hands gliding over his skin. He felt warm and safe and cared for. Maybe that's what master needed. Maybe he needed to relax and let Peter take care of him. He'd stopped him before, in the bedroom. Maybe it was because he needed something else. Maybe he needed a different kind of care.

Peter rinsed away the soap and turned around. Tony had already picked up the bottle of shampoo with the intention of washing himself the way he usually did. Peter placed a gentle hand over the bottle. Tony paused and looked at him.

"Can I wash you, today? Please?"

Master blinked. Then he nodded, his face was even and unreadable. Still, Peter took the bottle. They carefully traded places, then Tony bent a little so Peter could reach his head better.

He touched Tony's hair and the man tensed. Peter frowned. He dug his fingers in, massaging his scalp. Slowly he seemed to relax. Peter realized that he didn't really do this often. He sometimes offered to do sexual things for his master, but never things like this. Maybe that was why he was upset.

He scrubbed his hair clean and watched the soap run down his back. They repeated with some conditioner without saying a word. Peter wasn’t sure if he should wash Tony with his bare hands the way he did for him. He usually used a wash cloth for himself. So Peter used the wash cloth Tony had brought with him to be safe. He knelt on the floor of the tub and carefully scrubbed circles over the skin of his calves. He worked his way up with great care and attention, never missing a spot. When he reached his back, he paused to press a kiss to spine.

They both needed this, he could tell. This was the missing piece and it filled them both up. He needed to care for Tony just as he did for his doll. This was better.

Neither of them spoke a word as they got out and dressed. Tony had this intense look in his eye that Peter didn’t understand, but he was trapped by his gaze each time it fell on him.

Tony put on black sweats and a gray tanktop. Peter put on the band tee Tony had been wearing before and some shorts that barely showed under the length of the shirt. They had just made it to the bedroom door, in silent agreement to go begin preparing dinner, when Tony backed him into the wall.

Peter swallowed, caged in with an arm on each side. He still didn't know what was going on.

"My doll," he whispered. "My dearest." He leaned in until his lips brushed his cheek and his breath was warm on his neck. Peter closed his eyes.

"Sweetheart," he kissed his cheek. "Baby doll-" Another kiss. "Do you love me?"

Peter's eyes shot open.

There was that word. The word they didn't say. The word he tried not to think about. So many times he'd pinched his own arm to stop himself from thinking silly things like that. At no point did he forget the wrongness of the situation. He didn't remember before. He didn't think about before. But he held on to the wrongness. It felt important. As if he might float away if he let it go. Was it safe to let it to? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not.

"Master..." Peter said. "Do you want me to?"

"I..." he stared. He seemed to be caught off guard, but so was Peter. It seemed odd for the man to be so confused and hesitant when he had been Peter's guiding light all this time. It couldn't be true, but he might have believed that the man was scared.

Peter placed a hand on his chest. He turned his head and brushed their lips together. He said the only thing that felt true, "As much as I know how to love, I love you."

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted. "Ms. Potts is waiting in the elevator."

Tony cleared his throat. He took a step back, eyes locked on Peter. He could see now the undeniable fear.

"Let her in," he said.

\----------

Dinner was a nice change of pace. Tony's pain hung in the air like a storm cloud, but like always, he laughed through it. He and Peter and Pepper, they all laughed. Peter looked so lively and happy. He was so much more at ease with Pepper than with Bruce. Maybe he felt like he didn't have to hide as much. Tony appreciated that he and Pepper could be friends. Pepper was right, it was good for Peter to have someone else to talk to. And he knew that he could trust her. It was nice knowing that if something did happen to him, that Peter might be willing to trust her too. Maybe it was the depression talking, but it felt inevitable that one day she would come to deliver the news that Tony wouldn’t be returning home. For Peter's sake alone, he hoped that he would live to be a hundred.

They finished up and Tony picked up their plates to take them to the sink.

"Should I help?" Peter asked.

"No, baby. You go watch TV. Let me and Pep clean up."

"Okay..."

Peter looked uncertain, but of course he did as he was told. Tony watched him make his way into the joined living area and sit down on the couch. He picked up the remote and flipped way too fast through the channels. Tony could tell he was annoyed at being sent away. He smiled fondly.

He helped Pepper gather up the rest of the dishes from the table and take them to the sink. He started to scrub away the evidence of dinner.

"How are you doing, Tony?" Pepper asked. She picked up a dish towel and leaned against the counter.

"I'm good. I'm always good."

Pepper snorted. "Sure," she said. "You look better than you did this morning at least. You can talk to me you know. It's been all this time and you still haven't said a word about Obediah."

Tony looked at her. She couldn't be implying that she thought it was really an accident.

"Was any of it true? What you told the police?"

Ah. She was hoping. There was a glimmer in her eyes that was begging. She wanted him to say 'of course it was all true, of course it was Obediah who kidnapped and tortured Peter, of course it was a drunk driving accident that killed him, of course I'm trying to be a better person'. He didn't say any of that though. In terms of being 'better', the one thing Tony could do was to stop lying to her. So he looked at her and figured that if he looked long enough she would understand. 

After a moment she seemed to. "Right..." She nodded, looking away from him.

"Well... I don't miss him."

"Sometimes I do," Tony admitted.

Pepper put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Then she looked over at Peter on the couch. Tony looked, too. He had his legs curled under him and he was watching a cartoon. He looked tiny. Especially in Tony's t-shirt.

"When I see him looking like that, I can almost pretend that he's your boyfriend," Pepper said.

Tony froze. What a thing to say. He'd never even thought of something as insane as that. 

"It doesn't matter what he is to you. That's what he is to the world. No one believes that you're just a good Samaritan, taking care of some sweet broken kid."

"He's not a kid," Tony snapped.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Pepper took a long breath. "What was your back up plan? If this didn't work?"

"Bringing him here?"

"Pinning the blame on Obediah. Or what if he still had family left? People who would want to see him."

Tony snorted. "He does."

"Some girl he went to school with is hardly an issue. If his aunt had been around, though? The public would have gone nuts if you didn't let her see him."

"Malibu," Tony said.

"Right."

"The house there, it could keep him safe, but I can't work from out there. Not forever. No one's satisfied with a CEO they can't see."

"You could resign."

"And leave you in charge?" Tony smirked. "That's plan B."

"So you do have a plan then? For when this stops working?"

Tony rinsed the last plate and set it in the drain. "I always have a plan. B, C, D- I have lots of plans."

"And what's C and D?" Pepper ran the towel around the dish. She stared at it, looking tense.

"It doesn't matter."

"I just want to know you'll be okay-"

"Pep! Please," Tony breathed through his nose. He walked away to find a dry towel for his hands. Thinking about 'if' made his chest hurt. A few times now he'd thought he was having a heart attack while thinking about this life shattering. One wrong move of his pawns and someone could find out what's happening here. They could try to take Peter away. They could try to arrest him. He had a plan for that, but it still scared him. Only he didn't like to use the word 'scared'.

"You want to know what really scares me?" she said. 

"Nope. I don't."

She didn't care what he said. Her eyes were far away. "If this does shatter and you two get torn apart, I'll be planning two funerals."

"Right. I wouldn't last in prison," he tried to laugh.

Pepper looked at him. "You know that's not what I mean." She squeezed his shoulder. "I can't say that I'm rooting for you, but there's no happy ending to this story."

"You're right." He looked at Peter. "It's a fairytale. The kind with blood and crows."

"Gross." Pepper wrinkled her nose. "Okay, I've officially been here too long."

"You don't want to stay for a drink?"

She smiled. "Tony... the longer I stay, the more your little, uh, 'pet' bares his teeth."

She laughed when she saw the surprise on his face. "I just wish I knew if he'd always been like that or if you made him that way." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Just... please try to be good to him." She let go of his hand and picked up her bag. "Goodnight, Tony."

She walked through the living room, waving to Peter. "Goodnight, Peter!"

"Goodnight, Ms. Potts," he called back. Pepper shot Tony a look over her shoulder and he wondered what Peter's face must have looked like for her to think she was right about him. Was his little doll a little tiger? Possessive of his master. Tony liked the sound of that.

He dried his hands with a towel and set it on the counter. Then he left the kitchen behind to go to the couch. Peter smiled up at him. Tony didn't know how he was so full of joy after knowing such pain, after tasting death so many times, after being half starved and left in a cage.

Tony sat down and pulled Peter to him. He laid down so they were spooned against each other. Peter happily nestled against his chest, spreading a blanket over them both.

As much as I know how to love, I love you.

Yeah. That was it exactly. That was what he hadn’t known how to say until Peter said it.

He wasn't sure anymore if he'd done a genius thing or if he'd made a mess, but he knew that he and Peter were survivors. They would find a way to live through this. Peter had already learned to survive him. He'd learned to be happy in a nightmare situation. Tony hardly had a right to complain when his only suffering was the realization that he was in love with his captive. Still, he would find a way to get through it. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he deserved to suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to everyone for your love and support. This fic started as a mess of fetishes I wanted to write before taking on a life of its own. It's been such a big project for me. I know I've written other things of similar length, but I feel like this is the best of them and it's all thanks to all of the loving and supportive comments I received. Thanks for reading. Sincerely.
> 
> Feel free to ask any unanswered questions down in the comments or over on my tumblr or pillowfort. Just wherever you feel comfortable. A few things in the story were left unsaid for the sake of not padding Tony's lovestruck musings or Peter's insane ramblings so if you want things drawn more clearly for you, don't be afraid to ask.
> 
> Once again, thank you guys <3

**Author's Note:**

> [My Pillowfort](http://www.pillowfort.social/babybatscreations)


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